Brother
by enzhe
Summary: Following the Uchiha massacre, Sasuke's emotional stability is called into question and the Hokage orders new living arrangements for him. After all, he's not the only desperately lonely, slightly messed up kid running around Konoha. AR. Not Yaoi.
1. In Which Sasuke is Plucked From a Lake

_I do not own Naruto. _

_Nii-san...No matter how far I have to plunge myself into darkness, I will do it in order to kill you! _Vowed Sasuke, adding poetic weight to the silent promise by sinking heedlessly deeper and deeper into the frigid lake water. The rising pressure in his lungs felt... good. The more urgently it pressed against his conscious thoughts, the more his muscles seized against the cold, the less he was able to think about anything other than his immediate physical needs. He had made his oath; now for just a few heartbeats of peace, escape from the never-ending nightmare.... His lips parted of their own accord, releasing some of the air trapped in his lungs. Darkness pressed at the edges of his consciousness, a reminder that his body was still weak, nowhere near its usual stamina. Just a few more moments, and he would allow his instincts to take over and propel him back into the light. He had a brother to kill, after all.

An iron grip closed around his right arm, startling the last of the air from his lungs in a panicked gasp; the water began rushing past him, dragging at his clothes and finding ways into his mouth and nostrils as he tried to fight his unseen assailant. Had he been followed into the shattered Uchiha district? Was there something in the lake he didn't know about? The water was getting everywhere, he was choking and involuntarily swallowing more. He wasn't going to make it....

Someone was pounding his sore back, forcing water to spew out of his mouth and nose. He coughed and choked and gathered the tattered remains of his strength to glare balefully at the ceramic ANBU mask hovering in front of him.

"Want to kill yourself, kid? Sorry, but you won't be getting away with that on my watch." The tone was somewhere between harsh and conversational, and the voice was female. Sasuke knocked his glare up a notch and struggled into a position where he might be able to support his own weight. He was wet, he was cold, and he really wanted to be alone. Of course his traitorous limbs would choose this time to start some uncontrollable shivering.

The ANBU sighed and gathered him into her arms. At a nod from another animal-masked ninja standing silently nearby, she bent her knees and launched upwards, clearing the walls of the Uchiha district with a few bounds and heading in a direct path over the rooftops of Konoha. The boy in her arms kept still and tense and quiet. He briefly considered attempting some struggling, but a paralyzing emptiness was rushing over him now, so he just stared at the overcast sky with blank black eyes and let her carry him where she would. If only that cursed trembling would stop....

Sasuke was still shaking when the Hokage slipped into his hospital room forty-five minutes later. If he hadn't been so tired, he might have felt angry to cover the shame of appearing so weak and helpless. As it was, it was all he could do to stare fixedly at the slightly fuzzy image of the ceiling and thus avoid the pity he was sure was dripping from everyone else's eyes. He couldn't think of anywhere else he really wanted to be, but to have been returned so abruptly to the hospital had to be one of the worst options. And now the Hokage himself was here.

The man should be saying something, doing something; but from what he could sense without giving up his stubborn perusal of the ceiling tiles, the great Sandaime must just be standing there, staring, doing nothing. DOING NOTHING_! Where were you? Why didn't you protect them? WHERE WERE YOU?! Where was all of Konoha while my family...!!_ But no audible words came; there was just the sudden stab of pain in his arm as his muscles strained into the white-knuckled fists wrapped unconsciously around bunches of white sheet.

"Sasuke." The old man's voice was very quiet. Sasuke tried to find pity or apology in it, but the tone was entirely unreadable. So he focused on unclenching his fingers from their death-grip on his sheet (it hurt, after all) and tried to listen to what the Sandaime had to say. "Would you like to be released from the hospital?"

Of everything the wretched child had thought the old man might pronounce, this was most unexpected. Stunned, the little boy turned startled, rubbed-red eyes to the Hokage's tired face. The old man regarded the small face for a moment, then spoke again, patiently.

"Well?"

"Y...yes," whispered Sasuke.

"There is one condition," rumbled the Hokage calmly. He watched as Sasuke nodded slightly to show that he was listening. "You will not return to the Uchiha district."

"...but..."

"Do you accept this condition, Sasuke?" This time the deep voice was stern, a hint of command layered into it. The boy looked away, stared at the sliver of window he could see from his prone position on the bed. He was an Uchiha; where else could he go?

"You don't need to decide immediately," the Hokage offered kindly. "I'm sure that the doctors would like to keep you under observation for a few more days anyway." He stood to leave. He reached the door and felt an ANBU shadow fall into place behind him before a small voice called out from the bed. Not quite catching the words, he looked back over his shoulder enquiringly.

Sasuke had pushed himself up into a sitting position and was staring at him defiantly. "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"...Okay," replied the Sandaime agreeably. "That's good news, I suppose."

"So let me go home."

"The condition stands, Sasuke." The grandfatherly figure was almost through the doorway.

"Where else can I go?!" This time, the little Uchiha couldn't keep the pleading--and the desperation--from his voice.

The Sandaime paused, but didn't look back. Only the ANBU could see the sad little smile lifting the corners of the man's haggard face.

"Don't worry. I have a special place in mind."

***

"Hey, hey, hey Old Man!" bawled Naruto, shoving his way past the flustered door-guarding ninja and worming his way into the Hokage's office. "How come I hafta change apartments? Huh? Huh?"


	2. In Which the Council Counsels

_I do not own Naruto._

Sarutobi Hiruzen kept his back ramrod straight and didn't bother to reign in the ominous aura his chakra was starting to emanate. It had been a bad, bad week. One of the worst of his entire shinobi career—and the regular assignments of a typical jounin were dark enough, without even considering the impossible decisions forced on a Hokage. The direction this meeting was taking, though not unexpected, was pushing the edges of what he could bear without giving off killer intent.

Even without Danzou present, the Counsel was doing their best to sabotage anything that might possibly be a positive compromise. And where was Danzou? Anything that could keep that man from a meeting he would find as personally intriguing as this one was cause for clear worry, and very probably increased security. Was the blood of an entire clan not enough to satisfy his skewed absolutist ideals?

"…I find it highly uncomfortable, Hokage-sama, that such a thing has even been considered—let alone proposed as a positive measure! To submit the innocent sole survivor of the elite Uchiha to the presence of such a demon—forgive me, Hokage-sama, but words fail to describe how utterly inappropriate—he's just a child—" Someone was rounding up another long rant, leaning forward over the council table, fists clenched and mouth gaping with righteous indignation. The Hokage pressed three fingers to his forehead and barely suppressed a sigh of frustration. _Naruto is also a child… but since when has anyone found fit to treat him as such? Or show such concern for his well-being? Already I wonder if his father will ever forgive me for what has become of him…._

"If the primary concern is to shield Uchiha Sasuke from the possible negative effects of living in isolation, to group him with the least socially acceptable member of our community must be recognized as counter-productive," Hyuuga Hiashi cut in smoothly. The pale-eyed man shifted slightly, trying to appear, if possible, more formally regal than he already did. "As he represents our only rival clan, it is the duty and honor of the Hyuuga to take the boy in and raise him among our own. Not only can we provide the ineffable benefits of participating in and receiving the support of an elite society—the only one comparable to that he was born into—"

Hiashi's fine speech was cut off from all sides. Tensions that had heretofore been restrained snapped and broke into dozens of forceful objections, some more appropriate than others. If the Uchiha was up for grabs, no way would the Hyuuga get him for themselves—there were dozens, no hundreds of superior solutions, each centered around the interests of the individual speakers. The somber Council gathering was teetering on the brink of chaos. Chairs were shoved back, voices raised, the table pounded—

"ENOUGH!" Roared the Hokage. Sweeping to his full height and majesty, he fixed the table at large with a cowing glare. When he spoke again, his voice was deadly quiet, little more than a growl. "You speak of a frightened child as you would a tool to be bent to your own selfish desires. The intentions currently prevailing in this room are unfit for the respected leaders of Konohagakure."

Slowly, some apologetically, others with great haughtiness, the Council members re-emerged as a seated, dignified assembly of respectable leaders. They waited for their Hokage to continue with his lecture, but Hiruzen stayed stock still and simply continued reflect death glares off the highly polished table-top, apparently too upset to continue. A deepening sense of unease settled over the assembled. Somewhere, a line had been crossed.

"...Troublesome..." it was a barely audible mutter, but several eyes turned to the head of the Nara clan. With a blatant sigh, the man rose from his seat to address his colleagues.

"What we have here is a simple case of logic. We have two boys, each too young to be truly healthy in isolation, each unsuited for adoption or…other assimilation…" he allowed his eyes to drift briefly, lazily, to the Hyuuga leader, "due to factors of both political and pragmatic significance." He paused to raise his eyes to heavens, lest his actions be interpreted as anything other than vague, reluctant involvement. "For my part, I see no reason to oppose the Hokage's arrangements."

"It will be good for the boys to have each other," rumbled Akimichi Chouza, placing solid support behind his former teammate's pronouncement. "Kids need to know that they're not alone."

"Aye, and the idea of an Uchiha with nothing but revenge to live for, and nothing to distract him from it…" the third member of Ino-Shika-Cho joined in, seamlessly interrupting a civilian leader before the other could do more than open his mouth to speak. Having been inside the mind of an Uchiha once or twice in his career, Inoichi had plenty of sincere foreboding to put behind his words. "Imagine the psychological scarring the child already faces. How would you like to fall asleep each night in the house where you brother slaughtered your parents, with nothing but ghosts and nightmares for company? What kind of man would our 'Last Uchiha' grow to be?" The blonde man barely suppressed a shudder, and felt the sudden need to tuck his little daughter in with extra care when he got home.

The Hokage closed his eyes in gratitude. At last, someone was willing to put the children first. Or perhaps he let his thoughts turn up to soon…

"The sentiments ring true, yes," agreed a new voice. Immediately, the level of attention snapped up in the room; it was Mitokado Homura who spoke—the only person the room to command a level of respect approaching the Sandaime. Hiruzen slowly turned his gaze to his adviser and former teammate, the tiny flicker of hope he had allowed spark up sinking back into non-existence. The closeness born of decades of teamwork and friendship had been severely strained by the events leading up to Itachi's horrifying annihilation order.

"Burning with the need for revenge, Sasuke will give everything to reach his greatest potential," Homura noted analytically. "While he may be unhappy at this young age, that will only drive him to more swiftly leave childhood behind and ascend to the greatest heights as a shinobi of Konoha. And as for the Uzumaki child healing his loneliness… would company with one monster prevent the development of another? Our Jinchuuriki exists for the good of the village, but to be a friendly presence among his peers has no part of his fate. Do any of you," here he sought carefully the gaze of each man or woman present with children close to Naruto's age, "encourage your sons and daughters to associate with the vessel of the Kyuubi?"

Hiruzen wanted to reduce the table to matchsticks at this point. To his great surprise, however, another unexpected ally spoke up.

"Hmph," snorted Inuzuka Tsume irreverently. Her giant wolf-like counterpart, Kuromaru, added a huff of his own from his position under the table. "I'm not afraid of the Kyuubi or that crazy little rascal containing him. Seems like a fine kid to me. Kiba can play with him anytime he feels like it. It's not like that shrimpy little orange brat might _hurt_ my son." She chuckled brazenly. "And Hana can MARRY the twerp if she wants to. Who knows, he might grow up to be bearable to look at, at least if he ditches the orange."

Shikaku let out a half-suppressed chuckle. From the far end of the table, another of the assembled broke a silence he had maintained throughout the evening. Speaking from behind a forbiddingly high collar, Aburame Shibi laid forth a few laboriously constructed sentences.

"It distresses me to confess that I have not considered this issue before," he began softly, giving no more hint to his emotions through his voice than through his shaded eyes. "But there is an additional aspect to the current discussion that continues to be ignored. The suggested living arrangements affect the lives of two young males, and the projected effects of said arrangement have only been applied, in discussion, to one." He paused. "I am afraid of the Kyuubi." The angle of his head changed, suggesting that his gaze was being redirected to the tabletop, rather than his audience. "As such, I have never sought contact with Uzumaki Naruto. To the best of my knowledge, no one in Konoha has deliberately ventured to allow this one young one to feel that he is a part of our goals and activities as a community." The Aburame paused again, considering carefully what must be said. "When an individual is ostracized within his own colony, one of two ends results: the individual has no purpose and dies; the individual creates for itself a purpose by turning against its own colony." Deathly silence descended over the room. No one wanted to break the habit of dismissing the boy who held the demon fox.

"Members of my clan are not always readily accepted by their peers," Shibi continued quietly. "Our natures and the very essence of our existence foment distance where casual social interaction might otherwise exist. The effects," he stated, his voice growing in clarity as it lost what little volume it had, "can be damaging." For a moment, it seemed that he would say no more. Then he turned calmly, quietly confronting the adviser, Homura. "It is not just Uchiha Sasuke who must concern us," he stated simply. "Uzumaki Naruto must also be freed from isolation."

"Hokage-sama," he announced, "I, too, must strongly support your position."

At last, Hiruzen felt it was safe to sit down.

-_-_-

This is my first-ever fanfic, so please, please review! I tried to prevent this chapter from becoming utterly boring… did I succeed? Or utterly fail? Do tell.


	3. In Which They Break In the Canal

Naruto was uncharacteristically subdued as Umino Iruka marched him through the village. Following the Sandaime's request to help Naruto settle into his new accommodations, he'd helped his student pack up the night before and would see him to his new place before classes started for the day. The idea was to move the kid to his new house as early in the morning as possible, in hopes of avoiding running into anyone who might be in the mood to give the kyuubi boy some trouble. Naruto was having enough difficulty figuring out how to deal with this abrupt change in his life; the newly-minted academy teacher didn't want to find out how the typical daily hostilities the kid faced would compound that until he absolutely had to. So he kept one eye on the handful of villagers already moving about—mostly shopkeepers setting up for the day—and the other on the few bright, spiky tips of yellow hair visible over the top of Naruto's overstuffed backpack, wondering how long the latter's silence could possibly last.

Thinking back to his own lonely childhood, Iruka decided that Sandaime-sama had a point. This was the perfect—perhaps only—chance to make a dent in the child's hopeless isolation. But Uchiha Sasuke… of all of the kids in his academy courses, Iruka couldn't think of any two who better fit the definition of opposites. Sasuke was quiet, polite, and hardworking—even though he seemed to master everything the academy threw at him with minimal effort. The Uchiha kept himself somewhat aloof, but never went out of his way to lord it over the other students, none of whom came close to providing a challenge. He could have been lazy and conniving, using the awe of his peers for his own ends; but all he cared about was progressing as steeply as possible, chasing endlessly after his legendary older brother....

Iruka shook his head at the thought. Though he had never known the other Uchiha son personally, the horror Itachi wrecked on his own family was inconceivable. How had a ninja of Konoha become so utterly lost? Something about the situation just seemed… off. Could the genius really have simply snapped under the unbearable pressure of his own talents combined with the impossible expectations of everyone around him? What did that mean for Sasuke? The entire village was still reeling from Itachi's inexplicable slaughter….

Shutting off that disturbing thought path, Iruka turned to the boy stumbling along beside him. There he was, the unstoppable bane of his teaching existence, walking meekly to his new fate as though he didn't throw off every single lesson his Sensei painstakingly prepared. It wasn't that he disliked the kid—if he had to be honest, he saw too much of himself in the little idiot to write him off completely—but he couldn't always suppress the daydreams of what his classroom would look like without Naruto.

Where Sasuke sat quietly and immediately absorbed everything that was taught—and applied that knowledge far beyond what was directly implied—Naruto acted as though his chair was actively and constantly repelling him. He either didn't process or entirely misunderstood everything he read or heard, and tried to cover up his embarrassing ineptitude with noise and pranks and jokes. It didn't help that everyone—teachers and students alike—had quickly fallen into the habit of reacting to everything Sasuke did with admiration, while poor Naruto received the opposite. Even those few things the kid did do adequately ended up being scorned—just because he was Naruto. It was hard to have enough patience to see past the boy's abrasive and habitually scape-goated persona long enough to acknowledge the bits of good work and good intent he put out now and again.

Still, the kid was indomitably upbeat and cheerful. Maybe that was part of the trouble: if he spent more time looking quiet—and could it even be contemplative?—as he was now, it might be easier to remember that he wasn't as impervious as he seemed.

Well, if these two could live together and Konoha remained standing, Iruka supposed that there was hope for the world.

Recognizing the house number they sought, he came to stop at the base of a few stairs. "This is it," he announced simply, and adjusted his hold on the various packages he carried to fish a key out of his pocket and hand it to his small student. "Go on, open it up."

Naruto stopped and stared at the door for a minute for shaking himself out of whatever daze he'd fallen into. Then he looked at the door again, took in a careful scan of the entire street, and looked up at Iruka-Sensei suspiciously.

"Are you sure?"

Iruka sighed. "Just try the key, okay? Your ramen collection may not weigh much, but it's very awkward to balance—"

Jolted into action by the terrifying prospect of Iruka letting his precious ramen fall crashing to the street, Naruto immediately obeyed. It wasn't that he doubted his Sensei's ability to get him to the right place—it was just that this place was, well, nice. The street, the neighborhood, and the door they had stopped in front of. Far too nice for a couple of unwanted, orphaned kids to live in. Cautiously, almost expecting someone to yell that he was barging into the wrong house or had made some other horrible mistake, Naruto twisted the key and pushed opened the door.

A wood-floored entryway opened onto a short flight of stairs. Huge-eyed and barely suppressing the first quiverings of excitement, Naruto slipped out of his sandals, dumped most of his earthly possessions unceremoniously on the floor, and tore off to inspect his new digs. _Ah, _thought Iruka smugly. _There's the Naruto I've been waiting for._

Sure enough, the boy's too-loud voice was bouncing off every wall of the apartment within seconds. "IT'S HUGE!!! THERE ARE THREE ROOMS! THERE'S A COUCH! IRUKA-SENSEI, THERE'S A COUCH!!!"

_So that's what the kid's always wanted? A couch? _Iruka picked his way carefully over Naruto's abandoned parcels, bemused.

The apartment really wasn't very big; arranged in one long, clean line, there was a front room that contained a kitchenette, a table with three matching chairs, a sliding glass door opening onto a small balcony, and yes—a couch. A short, low-backed, bright red one. To the right stretched a narrow hallway that opened onto the bathroom and two modest bedrooms, all set on one side so that each bedroom had a window facing the peaceful canal flowing by the back of the building. It might seem modern and palatial to Naruto, but would doubtless appear cramped and poorly appointed to the Uchiha. As if reacting to this last thought, Naruto reappeared suddenly before him, his face twisted into what might have been a thoughtful grimace.

"Ano…Sensei…" the kid was, very uncharacteristically, having trouble coming out with whatever he wanted to say.

"What is it, Naruto?"

"Sensei…this, this other kid…" Naruto looked away, then finished with what Iruka sensed was not the question he really wanted to ask. "…he'll be here soon, right?"

Iruka glanced out the window, marking the progress of the sun over the horizon. "He'll be here when you get back from school today, probably. Last I heard, he was still in the hospital."

"Okay," mumbled Naruto, though it was obvious to Iruka that it wasn't. The chunin sighed.

"Did you have any other questions, Naruto?"

He looked away, scuffing the hardwood floor with his bare foot. After a moment, the kid didn't seem to be able to stand still anymore, and walked quickly back to where he'd left his stuff in the entryway, apparently intent on unpacking. Suppressing another sigh, Iruka went to help him.

The kid fell back to his earlier, alarmingly subdued mood as they worked, quickly finding places for the things they'd brought with them. It wasn't hard; Naruto really didn't have much to call his own, and the new apartment was well equipped. It was a little sad, actually, seeing how little space the neatly folded clothes took up on his shelves, and how easily everything else slid under the bed in the surprisingly well-organized containers Naruto had packed them in. As far as Iruka could tell, the kid didn't own any toys. There was a battered alarm clock and a poster with the swirled leaf symbol etched on it that looked suspiciously as though it might have been salvaged from a dumpster, despite the obvious care it was treated with now. Iruka frowned, giving up the pretense of helping with the unpacking to study his pupil. Why did the kid look so…unhappy?

"Neh, Naruto," he said lightly, careful to sound offhand. "Aren't you excited to have such a great new place, and someone your age to share it with?" The boy jerked, raising startled eyes to his, but just as quickly looked away. Then he seemed to brace himself and turn a bright, impish smile to his audience.

"Of course, Sensei!"

When nothing else seemed forthcoming, Iruka decided to press the issue. "Really?" he asked, letting disbelief tint his tone a bit. "From the way you've been acting all morning, I was starting to think that you'd been told you could never have ramen again."

To his surprise, his small companion blushed at the lame joke.

"No, really, I think I'm happy about it, but…" Naruto struggled to find a way to explain what had him feeling so mixed up inside. "I mean, if the other kid comes, and he likes me, that would be the best thing in the world, but…" he cast a furtive glance up at his Sensei, and what Iruka saw there sent a jolt through his gut. Naruto was scared. Really, really scared.

"…But you think he won't like you?" Iruka finished the sentence grimly. He had to strain to catch the barely-uttered answer.

"…Most people don't…and then…if he's here… I won't have anywhere to go…" Naruto's shoulders hunched; he seemed to be curling in on himself.

Iruka felt awful. Sure, the kid was a pain in the neck. But he didn't deserve this. He sought desperately for something helpful to say, but no meaningful sentences were forming for him. To his surprise, Naruto pulled himself together again to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Did he do something bad, too?"

Iruka regarded him, alarmed. "Something bad? What do you mean?"

Naruto shrugged, still looking down.

"Explain, Naruto,' Iruka said shortly. The boy looked up at him guiltily. Then he caved and spilled his guts.

"I don't remember—honest, I don't, sometimes I try, but—when I was smaller, I did something really bad—" with another strangely furtive glance at his sensei, the very-tiny-looking Naruto seemed to lose the will to speak.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Naruto," Iruka said shortly. He counted through a few calming breaths to curb his rising anger. Naruto's birth marked the worst day of Iruka's life. So what? It wasn't the kid's fault. He'd been _born _that day—how was that supposed to be his responsibility? For Naruto, the nightmare that was the kyuubi no kitsune would never fade or go away. If anyone had the right to lash out, it wasn't the idiots who targeted a helpless kid.

Back in emotional control, Iruka put a gentle hand on the tight knot his student had curled himself into. Another sharp pang lanced through him as the kid flinched instinctively at the contact, but he didn't move his hand.

"Neither you nor Sasuke has done anything that is bad or wrong," Iruka said firmly. "A lot of the time people have bad things happen to them, even if they didn't do anything to cause it." His confidence grew as the untidy blond head emerged far enough for one bright eye to peek up at him. "Sasuke's not used to it yet. He's never been alone before. But you know how to endure even when things are awful, don't you? I bet that's why the Hokage thinks you can help him, even if…" Iruka hesitated, but decided that it was better for Naruto to try to face this fear now, as it would most likely come to pass. "…Even if he doesn't like you at first."

"YOSH!" Proclaimed Naruto, jumping up and performing one of his whiplash-inducing, positive mood changes. Sure enough, Uzumaki Naruto was not about to give up. "What time is it? Are we going to be late for school? Thanks for helping me bring all my stuff here, Iruka-Sensei!" In the blink of an eye, his role as a solid lump of misery was utterly forgotten in favor of another mad, babbling dash through the apartment. "Hurry, Sensei, hurry! It's not good to be late!"

Glancing heavenward, Iruka took a last glance around the room. Satisfied that they were leaving everything in decent order, he started after his hyperactive student.

"If we leave now, we'll be an hour early…" Iruka mumbled. But he didn't hide the smile tugging at his lips.

Uchiha Sasuke was also subdued as he was led to his new apartment, but for very different reasons. He had been allowed seven minutes to go through his old house and identify the material possessions he wanted to take with him to his new 'home'. They had blindfolded him before they reached the Uchiha gates and kept his eyes covered until he was standing in his old bedroom, making him feel like a prisoner being led into enemy territory. This had him seething, until he started looking around and nearly crumpled to the ground under the weight of grief and horror that washed over him. As it was, he was silently compliant when his time was up and his ANBU guards moved to blind him again. Maybe it was okay not to stay here, for now. It hurt too much.

He chose almost nothing material to accompany his march into exile, having received the Hokage's word that every last piece of the Uchiha estate would be cleaned, catalogued, and carefully stored away until he came of age and could decide what to do with it. Until then, he had his personal daily effects, four framed pictures that he didn't intend to display, a few carefully selected scrolls, and a small, sweet-smelling wooden jewelry box that had belonged to his mother. The only thing he needed, and left behind, were the extra sets of kunai and shuriken stored in the family dojo. When his knees threatened to wobble and give away the pain ripping him apart inside as he ghosted through his haunted home, he decided to splurge and buy new weapons. Ones that hadn't been launched at the monster he'd believed to be a beloved elder brother.

And so it was with no comment that he waited for the ANBU to unlock the door to the strange new apartment, and listlessly followed the man inside. He barely registered the space he passed through to get to his sleeping quarters, though a slight edge of irritation broke across his consciousness when he learned that his roommate had arrived first and claimed the bedroom farthest from the common area. That was HIS room, dammit. Ignoring the mindful presence of the sole remaining ANBU, he set about methodically stripping the place of everything the other boy had put into it. When the entire inventory of the stranger's possessions were piled in the hallway, he shut the door, spread one sheet over the welcoming futon, and crashed into what he prayed would be a dreamless sleep.

Several hours later, he lurched groggily through Tsukuyome-colored nightmares to a howl of pure rage.

"…TEME! Wake up, I'm gonna beat you to a pulp! Whaddya do with all my stuff, huh, huh? Kuso…"

Semi-consciously taking in the infuriated blur of black, orange, and yellow hurtling on an arched trajectory towards his head, Sasuke's highly trained preservation instincts kicked into play. The window behind his bed was open; he'd left it that way when he fell asleep, in appreciation for the mild breeze flowing through it. Twisting onto his back and throwing his arms out to steady himself, he lifted his legs and angled a two-footed kick to intercept and change the course of his attacker. Howling all the way, Naruto flew smoothly out the window. In the two heartbeats it took for Sasuke to wake up the rest of the way, a distinct splash was heard. Shaking off the last dregs of sleep and sitting up on his bed, the Uchiha prodigy turned instinctively towards the eyes he felt watching him from the doorway.

A ninja in a chunin vest was standing in the doorway, looking faintly amused.

"So, Uchiha-san," he commented dryly, "You have just been introduced to your new roommate."

A/N: Okay, guys. If you would like this story to continue, please, please review. Feedback is like chocolate to me. There's not much I'm willing to do without it. Cheers!


	4. In Which a Temporary Truce is Formed

_I do not own Naruto. If I did, Sasuke would be at least slightly less psychotic. Maybe that's why I felt the need to write this fic…_

**A/N: **If this chapter can scrape out at least 10 reviews, I'll continue with this story. Everything is appreciated; it is unbelievably helpful (and inspiring!) to know what is and isn't working with my writing, what readers like and don't like, where the mistakes are (I know they're in there…) how the characters are shaping out, etc., etc., etc. (I am the singing king of Siam!). I will also take requests/suggestions for future scenes/plot developments into considerations—I have a rough outline in mind, but it is generally nebulous and therefore wonderfully flexible.

In case of continued low interest, "Brother" will be taken down indefinitely, as I have several other fun projects waiting to take over my down time, and they are getting increasingly persistent. Just so you know!

A very, **very big thanks** (and a banana split sundae!) to Fickle17, wierdsquirrelgirl, kuzon234ray, Hell Changer, DerArsch, Ryuu Uzumaki, Tia'RaHu, and geetac for reviewing the first three chapters. Your encouragement caused much excitement and desire to write and is truly appreciated! YOSH! This chapter is for you.

-_-_-

Sasuke kept the bedroom at the end of the hall. Naruto had, in fact, not put up much of a fight. To the surprise of all present, the latter slopped back into the apartment quite cheerfully, muttering to himself what sounded suspiciously like half-formed plots for future canal dunkings, and faced off fearlessly when confronted with Sasuke's defensive crouch and self-righteous glare. What the dripping brat seemed more interested in, in fact, was taking a speculative glance at the dead-end hallway behind his new roommate. While the chuunin watching over them—one of those who worked shifts in the Hokage's office, running errands or standing sentry at the door—observed with only the faintest wariness edging his amusement, Naruto finished his perusal of the view past Sasuke's shoulder and nodded enthusiastically to himself. Then his silly expression broke into a wide, nearly feral grin.

"You can have that room, teme," he announced generously—and loudly, of course. "I'll move my stuff into the other one." And with that, he turned his back on the enemy and sauntered into the bath, where the sounds of wet clothes hitting the tile were followed immediately by the rush of running water.

Sasuke, however, did not looked pleased. After staring at the puddles marking Naruto's progress through the apartment as though each one had given him unforgivable personal offense, he turned to face their monitoring chuunin with as much haughty authority as an eight-year-old Uchiha could muster. The result wasn't without effect.

"Take me back to the Hokage," came the blunt command. "I cannot live with the dead-last. It is a disgrace to the entire," he choked suddenly and tried again, "—the entire--"

"Clan?" Supplied the chuunin bluntly. Sasuke scowled and looked away, trying to hide the emotions obscuring his attempts to glare the older boy into submission. "Sorry, kid," he continued, slightly more kindly this time. "You made this deal, now you gotta stick with it. Hokage-sama's got way, way too much to deal with right now to be working out babysitting, even if it is for the la—" he paused, apparently attempting some sort of tact, "—for, well, let's just say that you'll have to at least give this a try. Naruto's not so bad. I used to see him around the tower all the time, less often now that he's at the academy, like you. Hokage-sama likes him, anyway." The shoulders of the grey-green flak jacket went up at the young ninja shrugged. He knew what people said about the Uzumaki brat, but besides being annoying, loud, and alarmingly good at getting past chuunin door-guards, he had no reason to treat the kid any differently than the Hokage had commanded.

Deeply resentful of the implied message that he needed baby-sitting, and further angered by the superior-ranking ninja's refusal to do as he said, Sasuke disappeared into his room without another word. He did not emerge until he was forced out to heed the call of nature early the next morning—and immediately learned why Naruto had so easily given up his room.

It seemed that the end of the hallway was ideally set up for booby-traps. With walls on three sides immediately surrounding the bedroom door, there was more then enough support to anchor twine, wire, or whatever else was employed in the formation of the trap. The only escape routes were back the way he had come—which didn't get the victim anywhere—or right through the thick of the strategic mess.

And Naruto was no slouch when it came to booby traps. He'd had hours of uninterrupted plotting time while his stuck-up prick of a new housemate brooded sullenly in his room. There was even time to take clean-up into account—this was his brand-new, super-nice apartment, after all—and so it was that when Sasuke finally creaked open his bedroom door and took one-and-a-half steps into the hallway, it was the slippery crinkle of newspaper underfoot that first jarred him into thinking that all was, perhaps, not at all well.

Roughly three seconds later, he was hanging upside down with water dripping down one side and glutinous rice flour coating the other, mixing into a nasty, cohesive mass in the middle as he sneezed and spat and struggled violently against the twine looped around his legs. When Naruto stumbled out his room in the stupidest nightcap Sasuke had ever seen—and he wasn't just biased because of his current, unearthly-awful bad mood—and immediately started rolling around the floor clutching his belly and gasping for breath between raucous peals of laughter—the killing intent coming off the little Uchiha was enough to slip their still-sleeping neighbors into horrifying nightmares. It was at this point that Naruto reminded himself of another strategic advantage to keeping Sasuke in the corner room—he automatically had a headstart on the exit. But he lingered to enjoy the grand finale.

As Sasuke pulled himself together and exhibited the impressive agility and core body strength needed to twist upwards and work his legs free of the rough twine, the increased tension vibrating through the chords suspending him set off several more attacks: flour from the angle that had previously deployed water balloons, and the steady spray of a carefully rigged watering-can from the direction from which he'd first been blasted with flour. As Naruto struggled to his feet and made a hasty dash for the (thoughtfully left unlocked, just for this moment) front door, the pasty, globulous creature charging after him would never have been mistaken for a mostly harmless, sweet-looking child. Naruto was still laughing as they streaked through the still-dark streets; Sasuke was set into the grim determination of the chase, though you couldn't tell under his disguise as the Half-Cooked-Dumpling-From-Hell.

It was a little less than two hours later when the two much-worse-for-the-wear, battle-weary boys stumbled back up the street towards their apartment. The sun was up now, and people were beginning to appear on the streets to stare at them; in unspoken agreement, they stuck to side-streets and alleyways, of which Naruto had a surprisingly good knowledge. Bits of grass clung to the sticky residue still coating Sasuke—in a much thinner layer, but he still looked ghastly—and Naruto had taken an alarmingly thorough beating. Much to his companion's confusion, the blonde's primary reaction to getting the stuffing thrashed out of him by an infuriated Uchiha's taijutsu was the huge, oddly sincere grin pasted over his gashed and swollen face. Maybe this kid was even stupider than he looked.

Sasuke frowned. There was something disorientingly unbalanced about the way Naruto fought. That the stunted kid was loving every minute of it was obvious, and in itself a little strange, especially as he was so hopelessly outclassed. But it was his taijutsu forms that were so confusing—they were all wrong. Out of order, unbalanced, the weight always shifted over the wrong leg or the shoulders position so he couldn't block or punch effectively. The idiot kept tripping himself up, getting in the way of his own moves, leaving obvious openings—but then he reacted instinctively, and astonishingly effectively, to several of Sasuke's more advanced moves, showing speed and coordination and dead-on instinct—right before he'd sabotage his own stance trying to use a basic block. What the hell?

And then—and then—no matter how many times Sasuke knocked him down—and followed him to the ground to better pummel him—he'd grin and roll over or get his limbs back under him and stand up again, fists clenched in a fierce challenge. Even though his opponent never got a good strike in, Sasuke started getting worn out just from _winning. _At last, as the anger fueling his fighting was sputtering out and Naruto's second eye was rapidly swelling shut, they'd come to a sort of undefined truce, and wordlessly set out for home.

The class genius darted a guarded sideways glance at his thoroughly defeated opponent, who was, of all things, whistling as they turned onto their new street, hands laced carelessly behind his badly battered head. _This guy…_

Upon re-entering their apartment, Sasuke immediately disappeared into the shower (it was gonna take a LOT of careful lathering to get all that gunk out of his messy hair). The newly-recognizable Uchiha emerged to find a shockingly spotless hallway—no speck of evidence of Naruto's crime to be found—and the greasy, salty smell of ramen floating thick on the air. With a guilty start and a brief but sickening struggle against the raw-edged, breath-robbing _pain_ that seemed to re-open in his chest every time he thought of his family, Sasuke realized that all of his food had to come from his own efforts, now. He knew a little about cooking—it took a moment to force his mind away from sudden memories of helping his mother prepare dinners, when he was still too small to attend the academy—but he hadn't thought about all of the things he would need to do to feed himself, like buying groceries and making sure he had dishes to cook in and eat from. How could he have failed to plan for something so obvious?

And he was so hungry… he hadn't eaten since picking half-heartedly at that unappetizing lunch tray presented to him in the hospital the day before. His arms wrapped around his stomach unwittingly as it growled painfully. Maybe he could pay Naruto back for some of whatever he was eating? But that would require asking the dobe…almost like asking for help… an mortifying heat flushed his cheeks just at the thought. No, he would be strong and endure until he figured out another way to get food.

"OI! SASUKE-TEME!" Naruto's ridiculously loud and enthused cry made him jump, further reddening Sasuke's face. "WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG, YOU SLOW-POKE-TEME? I MADE RAMEN BUT YOU'RE SO SLOW, YOUR NOODLES STARTED GETTING SOGGY SO I HAD TO EAT THEM AND NOW I'M MAKING MORE BUT IF YOU DON'T GET HERE BEFORE IT STARTS GOING BAD I'LL HAVE TO EAT THAT TOO, AND--"

Sasuke removed his hands from his ears long enough to toss a well-aimed shuriken, effectively cutting off Naruto's cheerful tirade. For a few seconds, at least.

"…A-a-awesome…" breathed the blond, staring at the deadly piece of metal protruding from the side of his mostly-empty instant ramen cup. "Dude, you've got to show me how to do that, I can't even see you from here but your aim was--"

Scowling, Sasuke slipped into the chair opposite Naruto and pulled the untouched cup of not-quite-ready ramen the dobe had started preparing towards himself possessively. While Naruto continued to carry on a conversation with himself (well, much of it was addressed to Sasuke, but the latter's complete lack of response or acknowledgement didn't seem to deter the other kid at all), Sasuke snatched up the extra pair of chopsticks laid out on the table and set to with a will. Maybe it was the early-morning fight, but he hadn't felt like eating this much since… since Itachi started acting weird. Instantly desperate for any sort of mental distraction, he actually started listening to what Naruto was saying.

"…so this time, I'll switch ALL the signs, and maybe even move some of the benches and stuff too, the whole street will be turned backwards! Old man Shusuke will go crazy…" Naruto paused to guffaw heartily at his own cleverness, and to add boiling water to yet another cup of instant ramen. Shrimp-flavored, this time. "Hey hey, you want another one, too? I have two of every flavor, but you can't have amazing red ones, those are saved for special occasions only! One time I was so tired I started eating a Dragon's Flame Super Special 'cause it looked like the regular miso one and when I realized it wasn't it was already too late, so I ate it anyway and I almost died from how delicious it was but then everything was ruined because I had to go to school afterwards, which sucked so bad that day I almost forgot how great bre--"

_School! _Slightly panicked, Sasuke jumped to his feet, looking for a clock. They were later for sure—

"Eeehhh? Teme? What are you jumping around for all of a sudden?"

"I don't want to be late for school, usuratonkach," came the hissed response. "Where's a clock? What time is it?"

"HAH!" Yelled Naruto, chortling annoyingly again. "Baaaaka, there's no school today, it's our day off! …But you can go if you really want to, I'll just fix up your bedroom door again…"

Barely suppressing his embarrassment under an increased level of irritation, Sasuke sat back down and resumed the slurping of his ramen noodles, albeit bit viciously this time. It was that stupid hospital stay's fault. They didn't bother to tell him what day it was. How long was Naruto going to laugh about this?

"Dobe," Sasuke began, startling his giggling roommate with an almost conversational tone, "why do you do all those pranks?"

Naruto's grin nearly split his face. "Because I can!" He cheered exhuberantly. "…and it's really awesome ninja training," he added, almost as an afterthought. Sasuke gave him a look.

"Ninja training? Don't be stupid."

"How often do YOU get to practice hiding from ANBU?" deadpanned Naruto, looking smug. "No one wants to train with me, but if I do a good enough prank, they drop whatever they're doing and chase me! It's great!"

Startled, Sasuke stared at Naruto for a full minute, unaware of the noodles hanging half-slurped from his mouth. That actually… made a lot of sense.

"Heehee!" chortled Naruto, tucking his hands behind his head and looking immensely pleased with himself. Sasuke's eye twitched.

-_-_-

A tired but pleased Naruto lay in bed that night, grinning up at the ceiling. He couldn't remember when he had had such a good day. First, there was the immensely successful prank designed to welcome Sasuke into his new room. Then there was that _awesome_ fight with the fantastically goo-covered brat in the village park, while the rest of Konoha woke up for the day. They even made it home without anyone going after him, and then Sasuke ate ramen with him for breakfast… Naruto shivered, barely allowing himself to enjoy the strange, warm sensation seeping over him. For the first time, he didn't feel so… he didn't know the words to describe it. But he felt so much better than he usually did.

Of course Sasuke didn't stick around or invite him to go play or something, but he hadn't expected that. After hanging around hopefully for a bit, Naruto left the snob to his own devices and went to replenish his ramen supply—he was out of milk, too. The shopkeeper had been mean to him and told him he didn't have enough money to buy all the ramen cups he had in his basket, when Naruto was SURE he had counted right when he triple-checked the prices and his wallet, but he made it home fine anyway. And then he got to eat some of the (burned, but he really didn't care) rice Sasuke had made for dinner. Now he could hear Sasuke in the next room, the steady breathing barely audible above the regular tick-tick-tick of the alarm clock sitting beside his bed, but Naruto could hear it.

Sure, Sasuke wasn't cheerful—Naruto snorted at that thought, Sasuke was downright _nasty _most of the time—and he had stolen the room Naruto chose first, and pretended not to hear what he said most of the time, and called him mean names, and was way better at fighting and throwing shuriken and looking cool, but he was _there._

Maybe they could even be friends. One friend would be enough. He would be happy forever if Sasuke would be his friend.

It was late, but he was too restless to sleep. Half-formed in the rawest part of his mind was a sinking fear—the fear that this couldn't possibly happen again, that tomorrow could not be as good as today. Naruto wasn't acknowledging it, but it wouldn't go away. And then at school tomorrow, he would have to turn in his homework and the sensei would yell at him again for getting all of the problems wrong, and he would have to stay inside during the lunch break, but it wouldn't help because he still wouldn't know how to fix them… no. He was feeling happy. Had to hold to that as long as he could.

On the other side of the thin bedroom wall, Sasuke was drowning in the agony of an inescapable nightmare, trying desperately to wake up as his eyes—eyes he couldn't move, couldn't close, couldn't cover, no matter how hard he fought to—recorded the deaths of every person he had ever loved in perfect detail, again. He could feel something ripping inside, he was going to break and he didn't care so long as it stopped hurting to much—but it only worsened, and Itachi stepped from the shadows to stand over their parent's still-bleeding bodies, and he didn't know what to think or feel or do, there was just why, whywhywhywhy—

"Sasuke!"

Wide, light-colored eyes were staring at him. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, every muscle still seized in the psychological aftershock of Tsukuyomi, but those were not sharingan eyes. Those eyes were not part of his dream. It was over.

Slowly, the fear holding him captive started to drain into relief.

For once, Naruto didn't have anything to say. He knew all about nightmares. He knew that it took a while for the fear to go away. He knew that horrible mixed-up feeling between waking up and feeling safe enough to try sleeping again. Beneath the light blankets, he could see Sasuke's limbs shaking, just like his did when he woke up alone.

"You snore like a pig," the little blonde lied abruptly. "Learn to sleep more quietly, Sasuke-teme."

With that, he hopped off Sasuke's futon, padding on silent feet to slip back through the open door, though he didn't slide it shut all the way.

Sasuke didn't complain.


	5. In Which Sasuke Mouths Off

Chapter 5: In Which Sasuke Mouths Off

Sasuke walked into the Academy the next morning as if in a trance. While everything else in his life had (in his overly graphic imagination) been ripped to bloodied and tattered shreds, with only a few pathetic scraps salvaged and mashed onto a blank new canvas to make an obscure and unappealing picture, somehow nothing here had changed. And it felt… off.

How could the building look so peaceful, so familiar? How could all of the other students be running happily in the schoolyard, laughing and carefree when an entire section of their village had been senselessly obliterated? Surely this was just a vague, wistful dream of his former life, one he would soon be forced to wake up from? Feeling detached and taking comfort in this strange mantle of apathy and unreality, he drifted unnoticed across the spaces between the school gates and his morning classroom, noiseless as a ghost. There was his seat, waiting for him, bizarrely unchanged.

He'd woken a little later than usual that morning, the only surprise being that the apartment was completely empty of a certain loud, yellow-haired idiot. Sasuke didn't mind. He had slept better—after waking from that first nightmare before it could finish playing out—than he ever had in the hospital, and a peaceful breakfast of burned rice and a few cherry tomatoes (which he was gratified to see the dobe hadn't touched) fit his mood well enough. Preparations for a day at school were completed mechanically, and when a small surge of panic had hit him in the middle of the road just a few blocks from the academy—a street he had last hurried down with fear of a scolding for getting home so late—he'd quickly taken control of the situation, cutting off his emotions and schooling his breathing with an efficiency of which he was rather proud.

Uchiha shinobi did not panic. It was good that he did not give in to his weakness. So now he was sitting quietly in his chair, not panicking. And making a distracted scan of the classroom. Where was that useless housemate of his? Was the idiot skipping school? Had he actually been in the apartment the entire morning, sleeping like a pig? The first bell was about to ring…

As if summoned by this thought, the dead-last himself slipped silently through the door. Sasuke noticed that the desk his roommate headed for was located in the farthest corner of the room, where no one else was seated, and wondered suddenly if Naruto had always been placed there. Maybe that was why he didn't have any memory of noticing the blonde kid in class, with the exception of multiple annoying experiences of having to sit through the dobe's public punishments. Was it some sort of permanent punishment? Or did Naruto not want to be noticed? That was a sentiment Sasuke could appreciate, even more so now that the number of people who had felt compelled to point him out for his "cuteness" or…family connections…had now tripled, and been dipped heavily in a thick and sickeningly sweet sauce of pity. But no, anyone who went out of his way to be as loud and troublesome as his new living companion had to _want _attention. Which was part of why Sasuke had always felt a mild scorn for the dead-last, on those rare occasions when the latter's existence was forced on his consciousness.

Regrettably, there would be nothing rare about Naruto impinging on pretty much every aspect of Sasuke's life for the foreseeable future. So he might as well keep an eye on the idiot. If he was caught off-guard and left dangling upside down in some sort of evil prank-trap again….

Unconsciously, Sasuke had shifted his thoughts to his strange housemate for a very different reason: it was safe. Nothing about Naruto spoke to him of the gaping, very raw wounds Itachi had ripped into his brother's life and mind and heart; thinking about the other little boy did not make his lungs seize and collapse in on themselves, his stomach heave, or his gaze go blank as flashbacks tormented his mental eye. Naruto was safe. And different. And a ready-made distraction. Something to which the Last Uchiha's shattered psyche sought to attach long before the rest of him had any inkling of its intentions.

When the not-even-barely hushed whispers started, words like 'Uchiha,' 'only,' 'slaughtered,' 'entire' and 'gone' cutting past the strange trance Sasuke had fallen into, and the awful familiarity of his desk and his seat and his classroom turned traitor on him, and he couldn't breathe and everything was starting to hurt and he didn't know what to do, but to run run run—

-it was Naruto who made it go away.

"LOOK, LOOK EVERYONE! ANBU ARE CHASING SOME CRAZY NUKE-NIN! THEY'RE BOUNCING ALL OVER THE ROOFS, DATTEBAYO! LOOK AT THOSE JUTSUS THEY'RE THROWING AROUND!"

He was standing on his desk, bouncing excitedly and pointing out the window, a look of utter amazement spread across his idiot's face. Unable to resist the compelling enthusiasm of his cries, the class was up and pressed against the windows in an instant, cries of "Where, where?" and "I think I see them, look, over there!" "That's just smoke from a chimney, you moron!" eclipsing all previous conversations. Sasuke looked around, somewhat stunned. He'd been utterly forgotten. And now was the perfect opportunity to escape, while everyone was shoving to get a good view out the windows—well, except for the Nara kid, but he seemed to be sleeping—

-a flash of orange caught his eye. Naruto was bounding along the desktops, trailing barely audible evil chuckles and some sort of colorless goop squeezed from a large tube clenched carefully in his right hand, right over the benches everyone would be returning to. Without the slightest hesitation, he vaulted over Nara, momentarily angling the tube so that nothing dripped on the hunched form or the empty place beside it, finished up the benches on the other side, leapt over Sasuke—who was getting to his feet, ready to dodge out of the way—and flawlessly booby-trapped the last row before sliding easily into his seat. His weapon of destruction disappeared and his hands found their favorite spot at the back of his spiky head just in time for the first irritated classmates to give up straining their necks looking for nukenins and turn angrily towards Naruto's corner.

"There's nothing there, you freak."

Naruto just grinned at his attackers. "'S not my fault if you're too slow to see anything. ANBU are _fast._"

Amidst much muttering and angry glances, the class began to pull away from the window. Right on cue, the second bell rang; followed immediately by Yoshikazu-sensei's arrival in a swirl of leaves. In the scramble to regain their places and properly greet their sensei, no one noticed the sticky substance adhering their clothes to their benches, or the fact that the class star and central gossip subject had chosen to reseat himself—in the farthest corner of the classroom, coincidentally, where Naruto was gaping at him in surprise.

Blank-faced but grateful, though he never for a moment gave the prankster credit for rescuing him on purpose, Sasuke laced his fingers before his face and turned shuttered eyes to regard their teacher.

"Good morning, class," began the teacher, giving the prompt for all students to stand for their class-opening routine.

"We welcome you, honored Sensei," was the traditional response, spoken in unison as the students rose as one to stand at attention.

At least, that was what was supposed to happen. Things seemed to be going a bit differently this morning.

Cries of shock, pain, and embarrassment rose from the assembled as they tried to stand—and were either stuck fast, or, more unluckily, slammed unbalanced limbs into desks and each other, or succeeded in standing but left certain vital items of clothing behind. And of course there was Naruto, rolling helplessly on the floor and laughing so hard Sasuke wondered briefly how he was still breathing. Until Yoshikazu-sensei was suddenly looming over the prankster before swinging him high to dangle from a twisted collar, at which point the blond really _couldn't _breathe.

Yoshikazu-sensei was never one for many words. He stared down his smallest pupil with a blank-faced gaze that generally earned creeped-out shivers from the kids and leaked enough killing intent that the entire class stilled, turning eager faces to watch Naruto's latest public punishment.

Naruto's face turned red, then purple, and finally tinged blue as he squinted his eyes shut and scrabbled for air. Yoshikazu-sensei dropped him as though he'd just caught a whiff of something foul. Sasuke stared as Naruto greedily wheezed in two gasping lungfulls before breaking out an astonishingly cheeky grin. Yoshikazu-sensei's eyes bugged.

"_Out,_" he ordered, his voice deathly quiet. The killing intent increased. One long finger pointed at the classroom door. All eyes on him, Naruto started pulling himself to his feet, still fighting a bit for each breath. Sasuke saw bruises forming where the collar of his cheap white T-shirt has been twisted too tightly around his skinny neck.

"You will receive a zero for the morning session in addition to a suitable penalty. You will wait in the hallway with your face to the wall until I tell you otherwise." The teacher's tone was back to an eerie calm that matched his expressionless face. A few students, having been on the receiving end of Yoshikazu-sensei's current mood before, cringed. This was going to be a bad day for Naruto.

Naruto stuck his tongue out and started a too-jaunty walk to the classroom door.

Sasuke was dangerously close to panicking again. With Naruto out of sight, he would soon be out of mind. And then it would all start again—the whispers, the looks—with no distraction in sight. If he could keep the dummy in the classroom, attention would be diverted that way every time someone had to deal with the consequences of getting their butts glued. He could make sure that happened often. What was with their sensei, anyway? Usually kids were rewarded for pulling off such successful ninja stunts…. Strangely driven to vocal expression, Sasuke grunted most derisively.

"HMMmfff. "

Several surprised eyes turned his way. He waited patiently until a few more of his peers followed their seatmates' line of sight.

"You're all pathetic," he informed coolly. "No _real_ ninja would get caught in a trap like that. Disgusting… the dobe's just defeated every one of you. Except for me." He allowed his expression to stretch in a little extra smugness. "And the lazy one," he added as an after thought.

Could the Uchiha be right? Surprised and wary gazes took turns around the classroom. Nara Shikamaru had raised his head to observe when Sasuke started speaking, but immediately re-buried all but his gravity-defying ponytail and resumed 'sleeping' when he was mentioned. But not before a few peers caught the edge of his smirk. Next to him, Akmichi Chouji shifted on his glue-free spot, undecided on whether or not to draw attention to his exemption from the prank. Maybe he could help Naruto get out of trouble? But just thinking about speaking up made him blush and reach instinctively for a snack to quell the butterflies rioting in his belly….

At the doorway, Naruto froze, one hand held rubbing gingerly at his neck and the other extended towards the door handle, his eyes wide with shock as his mind belatedly processed the Uchiha's words.

Yoshikazu-sensei glanced towards Sasuke appraisingly.

"You may have a point, Uchiha. Perhaps those who avoided getting caught in this trap deserve a reward of some sort." His cold gaze drifted over the rest of the class. "If you are able to, please stand up."

One, two, a reluctant three… Sasuke, Chouji, and Shikamaru rose to their feet. And then, from a front corner of the room, one more child rose, shoulders trembling slightly—the Hyuuga girl, Sasuke realized. He hadn't even noticed her. How did she escape her classmates' fate? The Nara kid had been (as always) sleeping, and Naruto left the seat next to the lazy bum clear for some reason, keeping fatty out of the danger zone. What had the shivering mouse done to escape the sticky mess?

Yoshikazu-sensei was apparently following a parallel thought track. "Hyuuga-san," he ordered tersely, though not unkindly, "Why are you not stuck to your seat?"

It took a moment for the girl to work up the courage to barely whisper a reply.

"A-a-ano, sensei, I was w-w-w-watching Na-na-naru…" the rest was lost to all but the most sensitive of hearing of Aburame Shino's resident insects.

Yoshikazu-sensei waited until it seemed clear that she had given up on making any further sound, then nodded.

"Yes. The best way to avoid a trap is to keep an accurate visual on the perpetrator. The number one lesson of shinobi survival: pay attention!" Fish-cold eyes ran a judgmental gaze over childish charges as the teacher made his most frequently pressed point, and the mood in the classroom soured even further. Initial shock and outrage morphed quickly into mortified rage, and eyes lit up vengefully as gazes turned to the source of their embarrassment: Naruto, who still stood stupidly frozen before the classroom entranceway.

Yoshikazu-sensei noticed this too. "What are you still doing here?" he asked, his tone suggesting that Naruto oozed a highly toxic slime. He looked pointedly at the door, and Naruto shook himself and finally grasped the handle, turning his head to hide from the stares.

_No! _Sasuke found his mouth working again. "I thought this was ninja school, sensei," he drawled casually, making up the words as he went along. "In a shinobi battle, wouldn't Naruto have won? Why is he being punished?" He knew his tone was too arrogant to be interpreted as anything but disrespectful, but just couldn't quite bring himself to care. And the words kept coming. "And is there any proof that it was the dobe who stuck you to your chairs? There are five students who are not glued in place. Where is the evidence for the assumption that that particular student is responsible? Clearly the fact that he was one of five who avoided a basic trap is not sufficient. Or perhaps whoever pulled the prank was smart enough to make it look like he didn't do it by gluing himself in place. Who would suspect a victim?"

"Hey!" Came a new voice, and a blonde girl Sasuke had never bothered to identify cut in in an opinionated fashion that was the only distinguishing characteristic he had associated with her. "What makes you assume it was a _boy_? Are you saying a kunoichi couldn't pull off a stunt like this?"

Sasuke snorted. As if….

"Whatever! We all know it was that baka! He's always doing all the stupid stuff!"

Sasuke turned up the derision to pinpoint the latest protestor. "You admit you were tricked by the 'stupid' trick of that 'baka'? What does that make you?" A brief memory of hanging upside down in his own corridor flitted across Sasuke's mind, but he dismissed it without inner fanfare. That was not the point here.

"It was a good use of a troublesome distraction…" came a slow, lazy voice from where Shikamaru appeared to make a half-hearted attempt at holding up the weight of his own head. "…troublesome…"

Yoshikazu-sensei growled. "Very well," he intoned, aiming to cut off the rising debate. "Is anyone able to witness that Uzumaki Naruto is responsible for an adhesive being placed on academy poperty?"

There were those who could witness, but none of them were feeling particularly inclined to do so. Sasuke folded his arms haughtily over his chest. Shikamaru emitted a light snore. Chouji munched contemplatively on a mouthful of potato chips. And Hinata appeared to have developed the ability to withdraw into her coat in a manner highly reminiscent of a threatened tortoise. No one else had anything other than imaginary nukenin to report. Their teacher turned to Naruto, whose mouth was now hanging agape to match his widened eyes.

"Return to your seat, Uzumaki," Yoshikazu ordered, voice colder still. "Though it is only a matter of time until I will be forced to relieve the class of your presence… we are, after all, practicing taijutsu today… we must prevent the regular catastrophic effects of your abysmal clumsiness…"

The last words were spoken so quietly that, had the speaker not been looming over his desk, Sasuke would have found them incoherent. Though from the sudden wary shadow that crossed Naruto's still too-wide eyes, it was clear the blond had heard clearly enough. The icy calm of Sensei's tone sent a clear chill of deadly threat scrolling down Sasuke's spine, and with a strange little jab of what may have been guilt, he wondered if he had just gotten his housemate into even more trouble. Whatever… Naruto was clearly too stupid to be angry at Sasuke—he'd stuck up for him, hadn't he?, even if his premonitions were correct. Still, he found himself averting his eyes as the other boy slipped past him and into his seat, expression still as dazed and dumb as though he'd recently walked into a glass door.

Trying to regain his usual aloof detachment, Sasuke folded his arms and stared blankly ahead while Yoshikazu-sensei stepped briefly into the hallway to give a message to one of the academy assistants before initiating a lecture on the use of an opponent's weight and momentum in physical combat. Mere minutes into the lecture, the assistant reappeared with an adhesive-dissolving solution, and the arduous task of un-sticking a squirmy class of eight-year-olds began. Throughout all of this Sasuke had stubbornly ignored the focused stare of the boy next to him; as the levels of volume and disorder in the classroom steadily grew, seriously impeding his focused brooding, he snapped and turned to glare at his seatmate.

"_What?_"

Naruto didn't look the least bit intimidated, but continue to look at him with what was uncomfortably close to unmitigated wonder. And… were those _tears _threatening to form in his eyes? Sasuke huffed scornfully.

Naruto answered with a question of his own, voice unwavering despite his all-too-open expression.

"Why?"

Sasuke looked away again. "Why what?"

"All of that stuff you said… why? No one ever stuck up for me before…"

"I didn't stick up for you, usuratonkachi."

Naruto opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to think better of it, and looked away instead. Sasuke's shoulders slumped just a bit in relief. Something about the way the dobe looked at him… it was too much, it made him feel squirmy inside. Stupid clumsy meddling annoying idiot dobe.

In taijutsu class it happened again.

Sasuke finished pounding his fourth opponent into the ground with a series of exact and rapid kicks and forearm-hits with a sneering mix of triumph and condemnation. These utter idiots, thinking they would be ninja someday… not one of them could stand up to more than a minute, _maybe_ two, of Uchiha taijutsu, Lesser fools. Speaking of fools, there was Naruto, over in the corner working one-on-one with Mizuki-sensei, an assistant instructor. There were two ways to get one-on-one instruction in the ninja academy: you were either really really good, or really really bad, outlying the rest of the class enough to be unteachable within the main group. Sasuke was used to the former, but this was, most obviously, a case of the latter.

But wait…

Konoha's only remaining Uchiha scowled so darkly that even the small gaggle of giggling girls who'd gathered to watch his latest spar flinched back. Images of some of the bizarre inadequacies in Naruto's brawling pre-dawn fight with him were flashing across Sasuke's mind as he focused in on the private instruction occurring in an isolated corner. There was a teacher, positioning Naruto into what Sasuke assumed was being presented as a blocking technique, there was Naruto, following the directions with perfect precision, being knocked down by a lazy backhand as he tried to use the faulty move, apparently oblivious to the malicious cast of Mizuki's smile as he bounced back up, looking more clownish than ever as his second cheek swelled.

"Yosh! Sensei, this time I'll get it for sure!" And it all started over again.

Anger boiled up in the little Uchiha. Anger at Naruto, for being so _stupid,_ for working so hard to learn a self-defeating technique, at Yoshikazu-sensei for glancing over with the usual blank poker-face but a certain satisfied glint in his eye, anger at himself for _noticing, _at everyone else for not noticing… just as no one had noticed when the man who had been his brother stopped acting like his brother, when and entire clan was disappearing, when everything that mattered in the world was gone but he had to come and sit at a desk and stare at a teacher and act like everything was _exactly the same…. _

"You idiot," Sasuke hissed, and grabbed Naruto roughly by the arm, throwing the smaller boy off balance and, incidentally, out of Mizuki's reach. Mizuki-sensei raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Sasuke was too far gone to even think about his words—as with that morning's incident, they came of their own accord, rushing past his conscious façade in a grief-drowning non-inhibition the eight-year-old orphan couldn't begin to control. Sasuke didn't even know when he'd crossed the training yard.

"TEME!" Naruto was howling, pushing Sasuke away with confused outrage. "What's your problem? I'm practi-"

But Sasuke cut across his babbling, glared up at Mizuki with all the hate Itachi had given him.

"You," accused the quivering Sasuke, black eyes trained on Mizuki with more than enough intensity to take the man by surprise, "are the worst excuse for a taijutsu teacher I have ever seen." If he'd known any swear words, Sasuke would have used them; but up until a little over a week ago, the youngest Uchiha had been far too sheltered and steeped in propriety to word his frustrations with anything other than tonal venom. Naruto had no such limitations.

"What the #$*% are you talking about, teme?"

"He's teaching you to die in a fight, idiot," came the growled response, and it wasn't lost on Naruto that Sasuke had unconsciously positioned himself between the blond and the present adults. "As if you needed help with that."

Naruto looked like he was trying not to believe him, but again that guarded shadow flickered across the blond's face, and Sasuke wondered what Naruto told himself in order to believe that his teachers _weren't_ out to get him. Both boys stiffened as a second adult arrived on the scene: Yoshikazu-sensei had abandoned group instruction—not that anyone was willing to do anything other than watch the unfolding drama anyway—and joined the conflict.

"Is Uzumaki disturbing your learning, Uchiha-san?"

Sasuke noted that Naruto glared at this accusation, but appeared entirely unsurprised. For his part, Sasuke was getting thoroughly tired of talking. If everyone would stop being so incredibly _stupid_, he could stop explaining everything.

"Mizuki-sensei was teaching the dobe a bad block."

"I am sure it was the execution, not the instruction, that was lacking, Sasuke," Yoshikazu-sensei interjected smoothly. Mizuki smirked. Naruto's hands were clenched into fists; his whole frame trembled. Sasuke glared back at both sensei.

"Even the dobe isn't _that _bad."

Yoshikazu-sensei did something unusual: he schooled his blank features into what must have been meant to be a concerned expression.

"You've had a hard week, Sasuke-kun. Perhaps the stress is getting to be too much for you? Your behavior has been most outspoken and out-of-character today… perhaps it is too soon for you to be back in school full time, taking into consideration all recent events. A visit to the academy nurse, perhaps? I'll write you a pass…"

"That's NOT the problem!" Yelled Yozhikazu-sensei's number one pupil unhappily. "Let GO! I do NOT need the nurse—" But Yoshikazu-sensei was already halfway back to the main building, a very angry—maybe even distraught—eight-year-old in his grasp, and Mizuki-sensei turned back to the group with a wide, kind smile.

"All right, class, let's go through a few katas to get our focus back, then we'll continue with the previous spars. Uzumaki, up here by me, please…"

High in an overshadowing treetop, the painted face of a ceramic animal mask watched impassively as instruction resumed; after just a few minutes of lingering observation, the ANBU behind it disappeared as silently as she'd arrived. Hokage-sama was waiting.

**A/N: **So… after many moons adrift on a sea of complete and utter misery (commonly known as morning sickness—don't ask me why, I could only _dream_ of the sick part limiting itself to mornings) I am back to being somewhat functional. And quite delighted with the small, raucous creature currently growing inside me, if I say so myself. He seems to engage in a lot of taijutsu training. And very little sleep.

How's that for an excuse for a long delay in updating, eh?

That said, this adds a whole new dimension to my life that may or may not affect the future of this story. We shall see. Rather than slaking before this new life-altering development, my enthusiasm for fanfiction has bred a whole new Naruto plot bunny focused fiercely on parenthood. I've started writing it but have yet to decide whether or not to post what would be the beginnings of a fairly lengthy tale. Because more pet projects is totally what I need in my life right now. Right.

May I present:

**Things I really, sincerely want your opinion on:**

**How am I doing with portraying a couple of 8 year old boys? **Do they seem too old? Too intuitive? Are they spiraling out of character? I teach third and fourth graders, so I have a decent basis to go off of, but that doesn't mean it's coming through correctly once translated into words and phrases… please let me know!

**Do Sasuke's reactions make sense?** I've tried to explain that he is leeching on to Naruto as a distraction from all-too-raw mental trauma, but that doesn't mean it works.

**Are things developing at a good pace?** Too slow, or maybe too fast (particularly Sasuke's dawning realization that Naruto is treated horrendously unfairly)?

**Anything else that stuck out at you as out of place/not really believable?**

I will be much obliged if you'd take a moment to give me this most coveted feedback! And anything else you think I should know in regards to this story. Thank you for reading!


	6. In Which They Practice Truancy

The next morning, Sasuke woke to dancing sun motes and a devious plan. _Who needs the dumb ol' academy? _He though smugly, and slid open his bedroom door with his shirt only halfway on, hurrying at the memory of getting up to a deserted apartment the previous day.

But the dobe was already gone. Eagerness evaporated, he sulked through his morning routine at a snail's pace and dragged his feet all the way to the academy.

During Infiltration Tactics, an assistant teacher read Naruto's homework assignment aloud for all the class to mock. Sasuke put his head down on his desk to pretend he couldn't see the way Naruto's gaze flickered tentatively his way, almost-hopeful even as he screwed his features into an enormous grin and laughed too loudly. In Botany the sensei scolded Naruto when his hands broke out in a nasty-looking rash after he enthusiastically fetched the fresh-cut plant samples she sent him to the back of the room after. Sasuke grit his teeth as Naruto yelped with pain, but might have felt better when the angry red welts quickly disappeared were it not for Naruto's stupid smile. The blond was missing in Protocol & Diplomacy and threw shaving-cream-filled balloons during Maths.

Sasuke didn't say a word during any of their classes, and Naruto didn't look his way after the first hour. The Uchiha burned more rice for dinner and grudgingly planned to share a tomato, but by the time his roommate made it back from mopping up the shaving cream (and all the classrooms on that level as punishment) Sasuke was asleep at the table and didn't wake until the Uzumaki was asleep in his own bed. So Sasuke trudged to his room without bothering to brush his teeth or put away the leftovers and thought he was stupid for thinking of sharing that tomato.

His nightmare of Itachi raising a bloody sword ended in a merciless blow from Naruto's pillow, and Sasuke determined to wake up on time the next morning.

When he woke yet again to an empty apartment, Sasuke went back to bed and pulled the covers over his head.

The front door to the apartment burst open some hours later, and a certain tightly-wound ball of trembling limbs shuddered and unfurled as Naruto's too-loud voice bounced off every wall in the apartment.

"SASUKE! SAAAASSUKEEEE! SASUKE! SAS-"

The strangely panicked chant cut off mid-howl as its object materialized before Naruto's anxious gaze.

"What?" asked Sasuke, mildly alarmed. Naruto's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Teme! Where have you been? You weren't in class and you _never _skipped class before, I thought something really terrible and awful happened! –What's going on then, you didn't get sick did you—?" even Naruto's oblivious nature wasn't immune to the whispers and rumors regarding Sasuke's vanished family. He'd spent a large part of the morning staring at the spot where Sasuke had sat next to him in the academy classroom and trying to ignore the terrifying ways for Sasuke to disappear that his imagination was so bent on conjuring. Involuntarily, one of his hands reached out, apparently set on poking or pinching the other boy to make sure he was real.

Sasuke swatted the reaching hand away. He couldn't think of anything to say. Naruto used the pause to catch his breath, and for a long moment the two kids simply stared at each other. Still shaken from a morning spent in abject misery as he tried desperately to grapple the viciously painful longing for his parents, his home, and the lie he'd believed was his aniki down to some manageable size, Sasuke found the unexpected warmth of having someone come running to him, _worrying_ about him to be far more than he could handle. Lest what he was pretending wasn't tears made themselves seen, he whirled around and was sliding his door shut before he even had both feet in his room.

"Wait! _No!_ Don't go—" Naruto blurted, reaching out to grab the back of Sasuke's shirt.

Sasuke stopped.

Naruto let go, and when Sasuke turned to eye him over his shoulder, all he could see was the spiky top of the shorter boy's head. Maybe he sensed Sasuke's eyes on him, because he seemed to shrink in even more—his hands pushed into his pockets and his shoulders slumped to sharper angles—and then he turned and scuffed back down the hallway, watching the dragging movement of his feet all the way.

"Naruto!"

One clear blue eye was just visible through shaggy blond bangs as it peeked over its shoulder.

Argh. Now he had to talk again. It took a while to get the words together right. "Why do you go to the academy, anyway?" Sasuke asked, his tone a little more scornful than he'd wanted it to be.

Those narrow shoulders stiffened.

"Don't you make fun of me, too, teme," hissed Naruto, snapping his head to the front again. "I'm gonna be a ninja. They can't stop me."

"…That's not really what I meant," Sasuke tried again. "What I mean was, why go to the stupid ol' academy? They don't teach you right there."

It worked; his roommate was looking at him again. Sasuke felt like his body was lighter all of a sudden. "I bet we could be waaay better without those idiots at the academy."

"What?" Naruto responded cautiously, tone and eyes both wary.

"I mean, anyone could teach you better than those guys do. I could do a way better job of teaching you." Sasuke shrugged, nonchalant.

Naruto regarded him suspiciously.

"Don't go back. They treat you bad there anyway. I'll teach you instead," Sasuke clarified, slowly and clearly. After all, this was the absolute dead-last of the class he was talking to. But even Naruto had to see how much better this plan was than enduring more pointlessly awful days at the academy! Sasuke was tempted to be amazed at his own brilliance.

Naruto just looked at him as though he was sporting his Half-Cooked-Dumpling-from-Hell costume again.

"Why?" The question was very blunt.

"…I already know everything they teach at the academy," Sasuke explained, after a while. He had to be careful here. Naruto was kinda dumb, but Sasuke had the uncomfortable feeling his housemate would sense a lie from kilometers away. And then make Sasuke's hair turn pink or something in retribution. The Uchiha suppressed a shudder. What if he ended up looking like that pink-haired girl's twin?

"Psshhhh. You think you're so special." Naruto made a horrible face at him and muttered something that included several swear words and what sounded suspiciously like 'teacher's pet'. Sasuke should have been mad, but the unclenching of his belly and easing of the near-constant lump in his throat was feeling really good—this was so much better than what had been happening to him all morning. So he just shrugged and said what he knew would keep Naruto's attention.

"Usuratonkachi. You're just afraid you can't keep up with me." Which, of course, was a most reasonable fear. There was no way Naruto would ever be able to keep up with _him. _Which meant Naruto would, obviously, deny that as loudly as possible.

"TEME! JUST YOU WAIT, I'LL FIGHT YOU 'TIL YOU'RE SO BLACK'N'BLUE, YOU'LL MATCH YOUR SHIRT! I CAN TAKE YOU ANY DAY!"

Yup.

"Hmmff," said Sasuke, and pushed past Naruto to slouch out the apartment door. Except he didn't quite make it that far, instead taking a good look at the living room floor as something nearly as large as he pounded onto his back, causing his unprepared knees to buckle and his hands to shoot out to stop his descent.

He rolled with the impact, and when the two boys stopped moving, Naruto was pinned, one of Sasuke's hands gripping his wrist in a hold that could be twisted into causing painful damage within seconds and the other holding a kunai that didn't look properly blunted against Naruto's throat.

Technically, academy students were not allowed live weapons. But Sasuke had been arming himself as lethally as possible ever since his hospital release, and he had yet to be reproached for it.

Naruto grinned up at him.

"So, so! Are you gonna teach me how ta do _that?_"

vTv

Naruto led the way to a clearing in the forest behind the academy, solving a hole in Sasuke's plotting before it could become an issue. In truth, Sasuke hadn't even realized that a place to train would be a primary problem that had to be solved in order to go forward with his plan. Training took place in one of two places in his mind: the academy grounds, or the Uchiha compound. Both of which were currently out of the question.

'YOSH!' Cheered Naruto. "Let's start! What are you gonna show me, huh huh?"

This part, Sasuke had planned for.

"Show me the first stance in the Sequence A primary kata."

There was the tiniest beat of silence, in which the Naruto simply stared back blankly, before the smaller kid exploded. "NANI?_Teme!_ You—you—what are you going on about? Those are the baby katas! I know that already! I knew it! You don't want to teach me, you're just being a stuck-up stupid-head like usual! I'll show you a primary kata—the one that starts with a knuckle sandwich—"

Sasuke put his hands over his ears.

Naruto stopped his fist three inches from Sasuke's face, staring at the other boy with wide and uncertain eyes. Then his shoulders slumped and his hand fell to his side, defeated. "Fine," he grumbled, along with several words Sasuke added to his rapidly expanding list of uncouth vocabulary, and settled into the required stance.

Sasuke had an excellent memory. Not that anyone had ever bothered to praise him for it—it was taken for granted if your family name was Uchiha, along with every other way in which he had managed to excel. But he was glad of it now. He could hear again the words of one of his older cousins guiding him through the stances his peers would be learning in two or three years' time, when they entered the academy. He closed his eyes briefly, remembering each admonition and explanation word-for-word.

Now he just had to dumb it down for the dobe. Setting his shoulders, he began a careful inspection of Naruto's pose, walking a tight circle around the other boy as Naruto twisted his head out of stance to keep a wary and conflicted eye on him.

"Okay… this one's not too bad. Center more of your weight on your back foot so you can pivot your torso smoothly without losing balance-"

"Ehhh?"

"Your weight! Balance it over your back foot! It's not hard, stupid!"

"STUPID? I'm not the one talkin' like I swallowed half of Mizuki-sensei's taijutsu scrolls! An' first you said ''center,' an' then you said 'balance'—"

Sasuke closed his eyes and tried again. Naruto broke stance to emphasize his frustrated swearing with flailing arms. They scuffled, Naruto got back into stance, Sasuke tried to tell him how to fix it—less patiently this time—Naruto swore back at him—

Damn. He couldn't do this. Naruto was too dumb for words. Literally. No matter how Sasuke tried to explain things, the dobe just didn't get it. And Sasuke was never good as getting what he wanted through words, anyway. Growing more frustrated by the millisecond, he imagined pounding Naruto into the dirt—again. And was struck with his most brilliant thought yet. Face brightening exponentially, he took aim and jabbed straight at Naruto's face.

The dobe dodged, lost his balance, and came up swinging. Sasuke jumped back, triumphant.

"Again," was all he said.

"EH?"

"Again. Except don't lose your balance this time. "

Eyes narrowed distrustfully, Naruto slid into position. Sasuke aimed for his face again. Naruto dodged and lost stance again, but didn't stumble as much.

"Again!"

Five jabs later, Naruto executed a perfect dodge. His weight was balanced exactly as it should be, and Sasuke hadn't had to say a word after the first two tries. Naruto's scowl was slowly morphing into a giant, if utterly un-cool, grin.

Almost smiling back, Sasuke sifted back through his memory, recalling exactly how this hold was meant to feel, where there needed to be tension and where there needed to be looseness and fluidity. After another moment's pause, he struck out again—this time with a low kick. Naruto yelped and jumped out of the way, but got back into place immediately, earning a sharp nod from Sasuke and another kick.

They had to practice the transition from first to second stance several times before Naruto figured out which way to counter Sasuke's attacks without shifting into a position that would break the sequence of the kata, but the work was getting less tedious at a shocking rate. Stupid as he might seem when it came to understanding words, there was nothing slow about the class dead last's physical response. Impressed in spite of himself, Sasuke plunged head-on into the challenge of figuring out exactly how he needed to attack to get Naruto into the perfect balance and position—this was the most fascinating practical exercise he'd had to work at in a long time.

Thirteen stances later, tree shadows were long and heavy across the clearing as the sun hung low in the West, and Sasuke stepped back before sitting flat on the ground, legs splayed and arms braced behind him. They were only halfway through the 35 steps of the A sequence, mostly because Sasuke was a perfectionist and each newly mastered position had to be practiced at the end of a running sequence of all previous positions and repeated at high speed before he was satisfied enough to start working on the next step. But he was more than satisfied with their progress. In fact, they had practically invented a counter-point to the existing sequence: all of the moves Sasuke had to use to get Naruto in exactly the right hold, many of which were pretty darn advanced.

Naruto flopped down beside him.

"Ne, ne! Are we awesome, or what? Those moves are so much better than the ones those academy baka-sensei showed us!"

Sasuke stared at the dimming sky and decided not to mention that what Naruto was learning was exactly what the academy baka-sensei _should_ have shown him. Although Naruto was right: these moves were better. Because Naruto was making all of the minute adjustments that would make each step perfectly balanced and positioned for him—his height and weight and reach. That was part of the reason why Uchiha kids were always trained privately: true excellence in taijutsu could only come through individual tailoring. Something no academy teacher could do for an entire class of not-very-disciplined brats.

"SO! What comes next?"

Sasuke's stomach growled.

"Dinner," he intoned, and pulled himself back upright.

Naruto's eyes dimmed. "You're going back to the apartment?"

Sasuke eyed him, brows pulling forward slightly. How could one kid be so damn moody? First the dobe's grinning like he's just been named Rookie of the Year, next he's looking like someone forbade the consumption of ramen. "_We're _going back to the apartment."

Naruto turned away. "Uh… maybe I'll stay here a bit. And practice! Yeah!"

"No you won't," Sasuke scoffed. "You'll mess up everything we just worked on if you do it by yourself. You'll make some stupid mistake and everything we did will be wasted 'cause you'll practice it all wrong." He expected a series of insults to be shouted back his way and balled up his fists in anticipation, but instead his short companion just looked away again.

"Come on," commanded Sasuke, turning to head out of the clearing and trying to deny the uneasy feeling coiling in his gut. He didn't want to walk home alone.

But a few steps into the trees still didn't bring the sound of sloppy footsteps hurrying after him. Unsettled, Sasuke looked back again.

"Dobe," he tried, with a half-hearted sneer.

No response. Naruto was still flopped on his back in the middle of the clearing, arms nonchalantly cradling the back of his head, staring resolutely at the heavens.

"…I'll eat all your ramen."

With a shout of incoherent outrage, Naruto was up and they were off.

oUo

Not even halfway home, Naruto started acting strange again. Sasuke scowled and bit the inside of his cheek, eyes planted firmly on the patch of road directly before him. Was it because of the way everyone was staring at them? He couldn't help it if all the idiotic passersby wanted to gawk at the lone survivor of a clan tragedy. At least no one was coming up to him to offer sympathy (fish for details) the way some jerk-face or other had every other time he'd ventured out. If they did that in front of Naruto, Sasuke would have to hit them. All of them. Damnit, now they were all whispering to each other. Fists clenched, Sasuke perked up his ears, hoping for a warning clue, anything that might give him a chance to distract Naruto and escape before they could be intercepted.

"…with _that _cursed child?"

"…who would allow such a-"

"...hasn't the poor kid been exposed to enough evil—"

"—someone get him away from that bakemono—"

…what?

"Race you home!" Naruto exclaimed suddenly, and bolted. Sasuke was only too happy to shoot off after him, overtake the little blond juggernaut, and lead the way home.

uIu

**A/N: After many moons… a chapter! Typed 2-3 sentences at a time while my baby slept and I momentarily procrastinated all the other things I was supposed to be doing. I hope it was worth it! But what I'm here to say is: thank you so very, very much to the many thoughtful and generous people who took the time to leave me reviews for last chapter! I'm pretty sure this chapter would never have made it into existence without your support. I have a bright & shiny goal to get the next update up faster—wish me luck!**

**p.s. I think I would benefit from a Beta—someone who reads with the detail of a fine-toothed comb for typos and grammar errors, and can give plot advice as well. Any volunteers/referrals? **


	7. In Which a Challenge is Issued

"They were successful today, as well?"

"Hai, Hokage-sama."

"Five days… and you say there is significant improvement." This last was uttered mostly to himself, so his ANBU remained silent, kneeling respectfully on the windswept roof of the tower. It was much harder for eavesdroppers to go undetected up there.

This was a development Hiruzen had not anticipated. That the boys would lift each other up, both emotionally and in the pragmatics of dealing with daily life, had been his dearest hope in pushing for this arrangement. That Sasuke (who had, until recent tragic disasters, maintained an entirely perfect attendance record) would lead the way in defecting from the academy, apparently under the illusion that responsibility for both his and Naruto's educations could be carried on his own slim shoulders—that was not in his plans. Not at all.

There was a simple answer: step in with the adult authority both children were missing, talk them down to size, and send them both back to school with no room for argument. It would be a simple matter with Naruto; his dreams were so big and all-encompassing that it was almost too easy to use them against him should such manipulation become necessary. And Sasuke had been raised in an all-too-authoritarian household; eliciting the prosper response should not be overly difficult on that front, either. No, when it came down to it, they were what they were: misdirected eight-year-olds, needing only a firm hand to shove them back over the line to being rightfully directed eight-year-olds.

Except Naruto's academy education _was_ misdirecteding, and Sasuke was doing his absolute best to fix that. From both ANBU reports and the glimpses he managed to catch in his own seer stone, there was some pretty decent evidence that the arrogant little Uchiha had a point when he decided he was better suited to handle the village pariah's education. Even if the main ingredient to Sasuke's success was that he didn't know exactly whom he was teaching, while every single sensei at the academy did.

What were Sasuke's motives? There was little about the boy to suggest purely altruistic intentions. Was this an attempt to avoid fear, or grief—or, more likely, both? If the events of the first day of truancy were something of a surprise—mainly in that Sasuke's teaching methods proved to be effective—the second and third days' news came with ever-widening ripples of astonishment. Hiruzen had been sure that Sasuke's patience with Naruto wouldn't last the hour, let alone three days of intensive training. And it wasn't just Sasuke's patience that was exceeding all expectations, but Naruto's determination and attention span.

It wasn't that the little jinchuuriki didn't make a habit of trying. It was that this time, he was actually succeeding.

Which left Hiruzen in a sticky spot. Un-mentored ninja training simply could not end well; and there wasn't a chance that Sasuke would know to cover everything he and Naruto needed to learn and practice. But Naruto was experiencing genuine success for the first time in his hard little life—pranks and other attention-seeking mischief discounted, of course—and who was the Hokage to deny him?

"Bring them here," ordered the Hokage.

There was a soft, sharp 'Hai!' and then he was alone. Hiruzen savored the peace—he knew better than anyone that there wasn't a straw-man's chance against an explosive-tagged kunai of it lasting.

ITI

"HYA HYA HYA HYA HYAAAAAAA! WOoOOoO!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. _Why_ Naruto insisted on adding sound effects to all the mastered kata, he had no idea. And he wasn't stupid enough to ask. But even the sweat-drop-inducing sight of Naruto's lips stuck out to form that last warbling whoop wasn't enough to dampen the rush of pride bursting in his chest as he witnessed the results of all his hard work: every single form was perfect. _Naruto_ looked like a _fighter_. Just days ago, Sasuke would have scoffed at the thought that such a thing could even be possible.

_Am I good or am I good?_

Sasuke had never really helped anyone before. Well, other than his mo—but that wasn't like this. That was carrying grocery baskets and folding away futons. This was different. At the academy, Sasuke had always been the best, and while he worked hard, he'd never had enough competition for that spot for it to feel truly significant. His clan name was Uchiha; that was just the way things were. At home, though, everything was different. He was always the youngest and the smallest; the one with the furthest to go.

It felt _good_ to be the one giving instruction and correction. And he was a damn good at it. Who could have believed the dobe was even capable of such sharp, precise movements?

"Sasuke! Let's do the next one!" yelled Naruto, weaving out of the last stance in favor of hopping up and down to release some of his pent-up energy and enthusiasm.

Sasuke was already thinking forward to the counter moves he would need to get Naruto using his weight correctly for the advanced feints and pivots the next kata would require. Though he had to admit that part was getting easier and easier; Naruto seemed to have some sort of instinct that got his body into the right positions without his brain having anything to do with it. They were on the third primary kata when Sasuke really started noticing it; he figured that by then Naruto had had enough experience with how the flow of balanced movement was supposed to feel that he could just sort of do it.

Then the challenge was countering fast enough that the idiot didn't start thinking, because that ruined everything. Naruto wanted to make all the moves bigger and flashier and it took a couple kicks in the behind before he shut up and started listening to Sasuke's perfection-is-not-optional spiel. Well, it was a bit more complicated than that, something along the lines of Naruto calling him names and snagging his heel in a tricky little variation on one of the very first moves they worked on which led to rolling around in the grass for awhile mashing dirt clods in each other's faces until Naruto jammed a live beetle up Sasuke's left nostril.

When Sasuke was done snorting the nasty crawly thing out and Naruto was done laughing so hard he started choking, the former got up and stalked away with all the frosty superiority he could muster while hiding the fact that having a hard-shelled, many-legged creepy-crawly scrambling about in an opening he _knew_ connected to his brain had upset him to near tears.

And then Naruto had come staggering after him, wiping away his own tears (from laughing his ass off, Sasuke thought bitterly) and begging him to come back with many implausible promises about all the ways he would make sure Sasuke never regretted returning to do more kata with him interspersed with much wide-eyed weedling.

("Puh-leeeeeeaze, teme, pleeeeeease? I'll build you a monument when I'm Hokage! Yeah yeah! A huge one ('cept compared to my face on the monument, 'cause that will be so freakin ginormous and _awesome _that even a super-cool Sasuke-statue will look tiny in comparison but it will still be amazing!) and it will have your stupid-ass hair spikes an' everything! Greatest taijutsu teacher EVER, it will say—")

And then that bewhiskered face got an unsettlingly sly look to it and Naruto bribed him with tomatoes.

Plants that grew all the tomatoes he could want, to be exact. Wondrous bushes that would live on their balcony and Naruto would water every day and Sasuke could have all the fresh red fruit he could eat. The way Naruto described it made it seem that these hypothetical future delicacies would far, far outstrip any tomato he could ever get from a market; even had him imagining waking in the morning and sliding open the balcony door to find plump, qred tomatoes glistening with dawn-break dew, ready for a bite….

Sasuke caved. Among the things he had noticed in his short stint as Naruto's flat mate was the astonishing fact that things _grew_ for the blond idiot. Those dried-up stalks of failed house-plants some tenant two buildings down threw out? They were flourishing. And looked very nice on either side of their long red couch.

And so they made it to Day Five of Sasuke's Taijutsu Review, and after spending an hour and forty minutes critically scrutinizing every single move Naruto made as he obediently performed the six primary academy kata, Sasuke was ready for the next challenge.

As an unexpected bonus, he hadn't had a nightmare for two nights _straight._

ITI

Iruka looked over the studiously (or lazily, as the case may be) bowed heads arrayed across his classroom, trying to manage his mounting anxiety.

Sasuke had been reported absent for five days. While no one had bothered to record Naruto's attendance, he got the kids to admit that they hadn't seen him around in at least two. Iruka knew it had been three or more. While Naruto rarely went two days straight without skipping class, for him to not set foot in the academy at all was completely unprecedented. And terribly worrying.

As a newbie teacher's aide, Iruka only taught his own classes on Mondays and Thursdays, spending the rest of his time in "teacher training"—or, in other words, being all of the more senior teachers' Marking Slave. He was cursed to be a very efficient and conscientious paperwork ninja, quickly becoming a favorite of the entire educational staff for his ability to grade fairly, process quickly, and organize brilliantly. If he kept it up, word of his abilities would inevitably drift up to the Tower, and he would be doomed to a lifetime of Mission Desk Management. But for all his dread of just such an assignment, he had too much personal integrity to sabotage his own work to escape it.

He also wasn't willing to let anyone get away with this "let's pretend we don't see the Uzumaki" game—or, in this case, the slightly twisted version: "let's pretend we haven't noticed that we haven't seen the Uzumaki". Iruka didn't even realize that he was grinding his teeth and slipping very much out of the 'safe approachable teacher' aura he generally cloaked himself in until Hyuuga Hinata squeaked and dropped her textbook, her little hands were trembling so bad.

That made his mind up. "Class! The next two hours will be self-study. And you better take the 'study' part seriously, because there will be an _extra-hard quiz,_" here he leaned forward and fixed his Ultimate Teacher Glare on as many of the gakis as he could make eye contact with, "when I get back. You fail, you get three epic poems to have copied and memorized by Friday—yes, I mean tomorrow-Friday. If your hands fall off before you finish—" here he glared specifically at some of his less academically motivated students, such as the Inuzuka and the Akimichi—"I will make you write them with your toes."

With that dire threat hanging in the air, Iruka disappeared in a soft swirl of leaves, the Hokage's office firmly in mind.

ITI

"OLD MAN! WHAT'RE YOU INTERRUPTING MY TRAINING FOR, DATTEBAYO?"

The Hokage felt the headache that'd been creeping up on him all afternoon crest and burst like an ocean wave hitting a sea cliff. "You can't just stop attending school, Naruto. And neither can Sasuke."

Hiruzen studied the two boys in front of him. Naruto was hopping about the room, one finger extended towards the Hokage in an accusatory gesture while the rest of his body bounced about rebelliously. Sasuke, on the other hand, was standing very still, hands fisted in his pockets , caught somewhere between haughty and cowed. It must be harrowing for a small child, the Sandaime mused, to be pounced upon by fully armed and intently focused ANBU and zapped with a (very) mild raiton jutsu before being teleported to the office of the Hokage himself.

Unless you were Naruto, of course, and found your way to the Hokage's desk in just such a manner on a near-weekly basis. Hiruzen wondered if Sasuke was also sulking over the fact that he was caught right away, while Naruto disappeared and managed to evade his ANBU until he returned to try to help Sasuke.

"Why _should_ I go to school?" Naruto was demanding, bottom lip thrust out in a ridiculous pout. "They never teach me anything cool there! I like it loads better working with Sasuke! Even if he is a nit-picky bastard, dattebayo!"

"Language, Naruto," sighed the Sandaime, without much conviction.

"You should see the stuff we been practicing, Old Man!" crowed Naruto, switching suddenly from accusatory and irritable to cheerful, if equally loud, enthusiasm. "I got so many awesome new moves, an' Sasuke can do stuff that's even _cooler—_"

Sasuke looked at him in surprise.

"—we invented, like, the best kata _ever,_ dattebayo! I never fall over anymore! No WAY would I lose a spar now, I've always got a way to get the other guy, even if I'm blocking! You won't be Hokage for long, Old Man! Sasuke an' me, we can do ANYTHING! How about you give us hite-ate right now, huh huh? We'll be the best ninja EVER! Just let us try them on—"

"Naruto."

To the relief of all present, the excitable little blond sulkily subsided.

"Thank you. Now, boys, listen carefully, as I will only explain this once. The Academy is not something to be taken lightly. Our Ninja Academy curriculum is designed to provide a knowledge base and skill set from which potential shinobi can be shaped, and _everything_ taught within its walls is _absolutely mandatory_ to any who seek to walk the path of a ninja. If you miss even one lesson," here the gaze of the Sandaime looked much less like that of a benevolent grandfather and far more like that of the ruthless military leader he was, "you may find that you have forfeited your _life. _For this reason, Naruto, Sasuke," he pinned each boy in turn, "I cannot allow either of you to be absent from _any_ academy lessons without excuse unless you wish to forever lose the chance of serving Konohagakure as a ninja."

Hah. That ought to do it. Even the little Uchiha looked properly cowed, despite the disturbing darkness of his scowl. And Naruto—

"EHH? Are you crazy, Jii-chan! If I used what those crazy academy sensei were showing me, I would be so dead so fast! So—so—hey, hey! You said 'without excuse!' well I got a really good excuse—I found the best teacher ever! If you want me to be a good ninja, you want me to have the best teacher, right, RIGHT?"

And there went the little Uchiha's repentant submission. An exceedingly smug smirk appeared to be growing in its place. Fortunately, reinforcements had just arrived, if the Hokage's guess as to the purpose of the person who was just about to knock on his door was correct.

"Well, Naruto, let's see what one of your actual sensei has to say about that."

While the eight-year-olds looked at each other and cringed, Sarutobi motioned for his attendant chuunin to pull open the door.

ITI

ANBU Squirrel observed all these proceedings with interest. There was a popular betting pool set up in HQ predicting the possible outcomes of the jinchuuriki and the Uchiha dropping out of ninja school, and she had the wages for two A ranks (and a free neck massage; she was very good at neck massages, which inspired a good number of her previously disinterested colleagues to bet against her) riding on whatever went down in the Hokage's office right that very moment.

Along with most of her fellow ANBU agents, Squirrel was vaguely fond of Naruto-chan. Not only was guarding the brat something of a 'good work, now rest up' reward assignment for nasty missions well done, the kid never failed to amuse. Wether he was staying up all night watching TV and shouting outrageous advice to the actors or dusting all the bras in lingerie section of the new clothing boutique with itching powder or even just singing to his plants in his horribly off-key—and oddly shy—way, there was something mesmerizing about watching a being who was so completely different from everything else that made up an ANBU's profession.

Blast it all, he was cute. That damn little demon-container was just plain cute. Everyone needed the occasional helping of cute in their lives, right?

(And it helped that this was a type of innocent adorable they were always commissioned to _protect,_ rather than…eliminate.)

She couldn't help but cheer when the kid took off mastering new—_real_—taijutsu moves through the course of the week. While she had never been fond of any of those cheating red-eyed bastards who called themselves Uchiha, Squirrel found herself nursing a grudging gratitude for Sasuke, too. Maybe if he kept making those (real) smiles break like a sunburst in those wide blue eyes and across those whiskered cheeks, he would prove everything she knew about Uchiha wrong and actually turn out to be some brand of decent. Maybe.

Damn. She was too invested. No wonder the people who got regular Uzumaki assignments all ended up quitting ANBU.

ITI

Poor Iruka was treated to a series of rapid surprises from the instant he stepped into the antechamber of the Hokage's office. All he'd meant to do was to politely ask for the official status on Uchiha Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto's whereabouts—data he knew Hokage-sama would have on hand, though he hadn't banked on meeting with the great man himself. No, he'd imagined something along the lines of relaying the request through the chuunin door-guard, who in turn would relay back whatever information he might receive in reply—if Hokage-sama wasn't too busy, of course.

Now he found himself saluting awkwardly before the Sandaime's desk, the two subjects of his quest sheepishly not meeting his eyes from where they were _also_ arrayed before said desk, and quite a handful of ANBU agents sprinkled about the perimeter for good measure.

What was he going to say, again?

"Thank you for coming, Iruka," intoned the Hokage, as though all of this had been planned. Iruka's thoughts spun wildly with the notion that perhaps it had.

"Hokage-sama," he managed, sub-consciously throwing Naruto the stink-eye. That brat had skipped class so many times that his response was reflexive.

"Ah… perhaps there is something you would like to say to our young friends, here? They seem to believe they no longer need the Academy." Busted. The Hokage totally caught that stink-eye. Given the invitation, however….

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," said Iruka graciously, before rounding on the two sweating boys."YOU TWO! What do you think you're playing at? Missing school for days—_days!_ No word of where you were! No word of why you were gone! Did you need help? _I didn't know!_ Were you sick? _No way of knowing! _Will you be able to make up everything you missed? _You better! _I'll work your little butts off if I need to, but YOU ARE NOT THROWINGAWAY YOUR EDUCATION!"

"Ano, Iruka-sensei—"

"NARUTO! You say you want to be Hokage? At this rate you won't even make _genin! _What have you been THINKING? And you, Sasuke, I considered you to be one of my most responsible students, but clearly that trust was misplaced! Is this how you honor your family name?"

"HEY, HEY, Iruka-sensei! YOU CAN'T SAY THAT TO SASUKE!"

Naruto had started to go into the half-turned pout with which he usually weathered lectures, but the sudden pallor he'd glimpsed wash over his partner-in-crime's face like a smear of white paint had him leaping from defensive to offensive in the blink of an eye.

"You grown-ups all think the academy's so great! Well if it's so awesome and so important, how come I learned more and got better training with four-and-a-half days with another eight-year-old, huh huh? Don't just 'spect me to believe it 'cause you tell me so! I hate all you grown-ups who always hate me for reason! And ruin everything for no reason!"

Iruka drew back, jolted from his verbal rampage; even Sandaime-sama looked a little worried. Iruka certainly hadn't expected anything deeper than Naruto's obvious dislike of sitting through school to come into play, but now those big blue eyes were shining with furiously-blinked-away tears.

"Returning to school doesn't mean you and Sasuke can't continue to train together, Naruto," Sandaime-sama put in gently. "Iruka isn't suggesting that. He is correct about the importance of being present for a full education, however."

But the jinchuuriki just collapsed to sit miserably on the floor, white-knuckle fists dashing tersely at traitorous tears. Somehow Sasuke had moved next to the other boy without Iruka noticing; he stood so close that his knee brushed the other boy's trembling shoulder.

"You don't get it!" said Naruto, once he'd soldiered past the immediate threat of tears. "I work every day to get stronger, but it never worked before! No matter how hard I tried at the stupid academy, I just did worse and worse! Those teachers aren't helping me! Don't lie! I know nobody wants me to be a ninja!"

"Naruto…" began Sarutobi-sama, but he didn't go on from there, so Iruka took a deep breath.

"How can you say that, Naruto? You know I believe in you. And what about Sasuke? You don't want him to miss school because of you, right?"

"I don't want to go either," put in Sasuke immediately, breaking his silence for the first time.

"Yeah, Sasuke doesn't wanna go either. They all whisper stuff about him.

Sasuke tensed, but didn't speak again.

"An' maybe you care, Iruka-sensei, but you're not there very much. Most of my classes are with other sensei. And besides, you're super-boring. Not like training with Sasuke."

Despite all of the other emotions Naruto's outbursts had roiling through him, Iruka felt his eye twitch. Boring, eh?

But still… Naruto had a point. Wasn't the fact that no one so much as marked the child's absence on the roll the catalyst that sent Iruka marching over here? If he knew anything about teaching, it was that students met the expectations set for them. If Naruto was set up to be nothing but a nuisance and a failure by the other sensei—even if they did nothing else to damage his education—a nuisance and a failure Naruto would be.

What could one beleaguered Marking Slave do?

"Eh—Hokage-sama—if I could be so bold—perhaps a temporary solution can be had."

"By all means, make your proposal, Iruka."

"Academy status is determined by exam scores alone, allowing the possibility of success even in times of imperfect attendance," Iruka began slowly. Naruto already looked completely lost, but that was fine for now. "If Naruto and Sasuke were both able to perform in the top third of their class on the exams—" Sasuke looked somewhere between upset and alarmed—"proving that neither is hampering the educational progress of the other, the evidence would support their determination to self-study."

"Hmm… there is something to that, Iruka," concurred the Hokage, in the midst of prepping his pipe for a headache-reducing smoke. "My main objection, however, would lie in the fact that while Sasuke may, indeed, prove capable of handling the physical sides of his and Naruto's education, other purely academic skills would prove too much."

"Which gives me another idea, Hokage-sama," announced, Iruka, getting a little excited over just how well this little idea of his might work out. "I have a student from a civilian background who is sorely lacking in physical training, as she does not receive any of the help at home that most of her peers take for granted. And she really loves to show off her near-perfect book knowledge. Perhaps-"

"Ah, yes, I think I see what you are implying. A tutoring exchange?" The crease between the Hokage's eyebrows smoothed into what was almost a smile. "Very well. Boys." Sasuke, looking almost hopeful, and Naruto, still looking upset and confused but back on his feet, turned to answer his gaze. "I have a challenge for you." Sasuke looked wary; determination was set in every centimeter of Naruto's visage, all the way the resolute pursing of his lips. Both looked up at their commander-in-chief with absolute attention. "If," continued the Sandaime gravely, "if, at the end of this trimester—seven weeks—you can both pass your exams in the top _fourth_ of your class, you will be allowed to continue in the shinobi preparation program as self-study students. _However,_ should either of you fail to meet this standard, you will both be given an ultimatum: participate in and pass all academy classes and activities, or give up being ninja forever."

"Ehh…."

"He means we don't have to go back, ever, if we do really well on the exams, dobe."

There was a beat of silence.

"YAAAAAHHH! YOU GOT IT OLD MAN! SASUKE! WE ARE THE BEST, DATTEBAYO!"

Iruka felt a cold thrill of premonition. Curses, his workload had just doubled… no way was he really leaving those two entirely to their own devices….

ITI

Squirrel was puzzled. She had bet that Hokage-sama would find a way for the boys to continue training without returning to the academy. But she hadn't accounted for that peer-tutor clause. Did this mean she had won? She really wanted to keep those wages….

TBC

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**A/N: **Ehehe… is there and award for the world's slowest writer? –rubs head sheepishly—

Really, though, what I really want to say down here is **thank you**. I have received so many alerts, faves, C2s, and _reviews—_wonderful, thoughtful, encouraging, well-thought-out, meaningful reviews—it's astonishing, and I'm so grateful. Tragically, this story got caught in the nefarious clutches of my sadistic Inner Perfectionist (as well as a nasty fanon vs. canon conflict… yeah… still stressing over that one a bit) and very nearly didn't survive to continue in any form whatsoever. But I just kept getting emails proving that _someone_ out there was enjoying the story, even if I had convinced myself that it was a complete waste of space. So we'll see if I can work through the slump. Thank you again for support.

Unfortunately, I can't make much of a promise regarding speedier updates, as I am in the midst of a move to China.


	8. In Which Homework is Evil

"SASUKEEEE! SOMEONE'S AT THE DOOR!" Naruto bellowed from the bathroom, after the first four knocks were clearly ignored.

"Then get it, dummy," suggested Sasuke, stretching out even further on the couch.

"You're the one who told me to stop dripping blood, stupidhead—"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and off the couch.

A short pink-haired girl was standing at the door, head bowed so that her face was entirely shadowed by choppy bangs.

"Ex-excuse me," she whispered, "b-but Iruka-sensei said—"

Sasuke didn't find out what Iruka-sensei had said, as he'd closed the door in her face the moment he realized she was a girl.

Naruto emerged from the bathroom, in the midst of doing a very sloppy job of winding bandages around one arm and the fingers of both hands, which seemed to be cut up quite badly. He stopped and stared around the empty front room wide-eyed.

"EH? Where's our guest?"

"It was a girl," Sasuke explained cursorily, flopping back down on the couch.

"A girl? Where is she?"

"How should I know?"

There was a pause as Naruto slowly pieced the facts together.

"YOU DIDN'T LET HER IN? YOU—YOU—" running to the front door, he flung it open and hollered down the street, "WAIT! WAAIT! COME BACK! DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO SASUKE-YAROU—"

"I… didn't leave," whispered a timid voice, and Naruto whirled around, very nearly smacking face-first into a child a little taller than himself. A huge grin stretched over his foxy face.

"HI! COME IN-TTEBAYO!" and lest the visitor change her mind, he grabbed her sleeve and dragged her through the entrance.

"What's your name? Why are you here? You're pretty! Want some ramen? I bet you want some ramen! I'll make you some, dattebayo!" and with that, the mini-tornado whirled its way off to the kitchen, where a loud shout of "ITAAIIII!" was soon heard.

Haruno Sakura stood in the entryway in shock, too surprised to remember her fears for the moment. Iruka-sensei had explained that two of the students in the academy had a new training schedule that made it impossible to attend regular classes, and that Hokage-sama (Hokage-sama! The most important person in all of Konoha!) had requested that she be their tutor and help them keep up their academic work. In exchange, they would help her with any non-academic work she was struggling with.

Sakura had been both terrified and overjoyed. She wanted so badly to be a ninja. It had all come about as a kind of accident: she started out in a regular civilian kindergarten, where she ruled the playground with an iron fist, learned to read and write faster than all of the other little kids combined, and drove the teachers to distraction with all the creative activities she found to fill the free time the other kids were learning letters in.

"Have you looked into the Shinobi Academy?" said her teachers to her parents, in a tone a little too forceful to really be a suggestion. And Sakura, who had brought just as much suffering on her parents with her unusual intelligence and boundless four-year-old enthusiasm, soon found herself enrolled in ninja school.

The Academy was a different world. While she knew how to be the boss when it came to other innocent civilian children, her social ranking was on the opposite end of the pyramid when dealing with baby ninjas. Not only could she not throw a kunai or even a decent punch, she didn't even know the proper way to _hold_ a blade. Also, she had a strange face with an unusually large forehead and no clan standing whatsoever to make up for it. Welcome to the land of bullies, Sakura-chan.

With no help whatsoever at home—not that her parents didn't care, they just didn't _know—_Sakura did what any smart kid would do: learned to keep her head down, achieve all she could while attracting as little notice as possible, and smush all of that bubbling _anger _and _energy _and _dominance_ deep, deep inside, where even she could sometimes forget it existed.

And now she was standing in the entryway of what was, bewilderingly, the home of both the class hero and the class pariah and Iruka-sensei wanted her to _help_ them. _Both _of them. And be helped _by_ them. She hadn't been able to eat right ever since he pulled her aside after class to tell her.

"Ramen's ready, Pretty-Girl-chan! Come and get it!" sang out a boisterous voice, and suddenly she was being dragged into a kitchen, where a boy with bandaged fingers made her eat and a boy with a pile of scrolls that didn't quite hide his scowl pretended she wasn't there.

iIi

"So you're the kid Iruka-sensei told us was gonna help us do all the boring stuff for school?" inquired Naruto, staring at Sakura with huge, fascinated blue eyes.

"Er… yes," admitted Sakura, still feeling uncertain and hesitant. She glanced at the darker boy, and he scoffed at both of them.

"Good luck with that," was Sasuke's disdainful addition.

"Shut up, teme," Naruto shot back at him, and Sasuke looked a little hurt at the unusual sting to his flat-mate's tone. "You gotta do all this stuff too."

Sasuke pulled a smirk at him before turning to Sakura. "Just give me the list of assignments, and I'll get them done. _He's_ the one you need to worry about. _I _don't need any help."

"Well…okay…" agreed Sakura, reaching into her bag for the materials Iruka-sensei had given her and tamping down the part of her that wanted to smack the Uchiha for being such a stuck-up prick. If he didn't need any help, why did Iruka-sensei tell her specifically that she was responsible for tutoring _both_ of them? ""

iIi

"Did you finish the first one yet?" asked Sakura, leaning over to take a look at the worksheet Naruto had been "working" on for the past half-hour.

"Yep! Just a sec—" grabbing the same worksheet from Sasuke's neat stack of finished work, he set to work copying answers at an amazing speed.

Sasuke slid open the balcony door—he'd gone out to check the tomato plants in case any of the fruit had miraculously ripened since morning and was biting into a yellow-orange orb that was still green on the bottom—and lobbed two shuriken at the kitchen table. One pinned his stack of papers neatly to the table; the other knocked Naruto's pencil from his hand.

"GAAAH!" said Naruto, eloquently.

"Iruka won't count it if it's copied off me, dobe," was all Sasuke said, his back turned on them again.

"If you don't know how to do it, I can show you—" offered Sakura.

Naruto buried his head in his arms and didn't reply. Sakura stared at him. No wonder all the teachers looked so angry with him all the time. He was impossible to work with.

But Hokage-sama thought she could do it. That's what Iruka-sensei said.

"Okay," she said to the sunny-haired top of Naruto's head. "You need to break it into pieces and look at each piece separately. I'll start with the smallest angle, the one that looks like Mizuki-sensei's nose, okay?"

One blue eye peeked up at her. Cheering for herself internally, Sakura forged on. "So I have the length of two of the sides, and I can use those to figure out what this side will be. It's like the secret clue that I can use to figure out what all the other hidden numbers are…."

Fascinated in spite of himself, Naruto inched closer, watching in wonder as the problems reshaped under Sakura's masterful descriptions.

iIi

"Naruto…" began Sakura slowly, interrupting a rather crude joke the blond boy was trying to tell her while simultaneously hiding the homework page she'd been attempting to help him work through behind the toaster, "…you do know how to read?"

"AHAHAHAHA! What kind of question is that? Of COURSE I know how to read!" shouted Naruto, eyes squinting with the force of a grin that didn't quite hide a twinge of panic. The homework paper went _in _the toaster rather than behind it since he wasn't watching where it was going anymore.

Sasuke looked up from the seat he had surreptitiously drifted to sometime during Sakura's attempt at a lesson.

"No, really, look!" insisted Naruto, grabbing an empty ramen cup from the center of the table. "See, see, this says, 'Ramen'! I can too read! And this says 'shrimp'—"

"That says 'spicy'," said Sakura quietly.

"Usuratonkachi," added Sasuke. He caught the ramen cup Naruto immediately launched at him and the fists that came flying directly after.

Sakura stared, wide-eyed, as the boys tussled wildly on the floor, grabbing, kicking, biting, snarling—well the last two were only Naruto—whose fingers were bleeding through their bandages, and _was that a live kunai in Sasuke's hand?_

"Stop," she whispered, standing, fists and belly clenching. She wanted to cry. Naruto had looked like he might cry, too.

The boys rolled into the living room, crashing into the low table there; Sasuke used the moment of shock from that impact to disentangle himself and scramble onto the couch, which he used as leverage for a flying leap that would bring down with a punishing and unblocked kick plowing right into Naruto's stomach—

"Stop!" cried Sakura.

The kick landed and Naruto curled inwards, lips shaping curses he didn't have air to voice—

"Stop—stop—"

Sasuke moved to straddle Naruto to better punch his face, and found his feet jerked out from under him and Naruto uncurled faster than his pained expression suggested he should be able to—

"STOP! _STOP IT RIGHT NOW!_"

Naruto froze. Sasuke paused, fist twisted in Naruto's shirt collar. They looked expectantly at Sakura.

"You're _bleeding,_" accused Sakura, and Naruto curled his hands against his chest guiltily. "You're an _idiot,_" she added, looking directly as Sasuke, who wasn't fast enough to contain the shock that slackened his face. "Is that a _live kunai _in your hand? Just wait 'til I tell Iruka-sensei! Naruto, get up. I'm teaching you how to read. _You_," she addressed Sasuke, "go away so we can learn. _Now._"

Then she stopped, listened to her little speech replay in her mind, gasped, covered her mouth with both hands, and blushed so badly her face clashed with her hair. How did all of that get out? But Naruto was seated at the table, looking meek; Sasuke was also seated at the table, looking quite the opposite of meek, but at least he wasn't saying anything.

Feeling a bit hesitant, Sakura joined them. "S-so," she stuttered, "Let's start with writing your name—I know you know it, but then we can use that to teach you words with the same characters—".

iIi

"Awesome, Sakura-chan!" crowed Naruto, watching her brace of three kunai thunk solidly into the target. He didn't seem to care that she stood a good fifteen paces closer to the target than either of the boys did, nor that her marksmanship was only slightly better than Naruto's and not even close to the level of Sasuke's. The latter drove this point home by tossing eight kunai from twice the distance, each of which hit its mark in a perfect spread.

It had become very clear why Naruto's fingers and arm were bandaged and bleeding that first day just minutes into her first training session with the boys. Sasuke took charge the minute they stepped out the door, and his teaching method was not forgiving. The moment they entered the clearing they'd claimed as theirs, a handful of shuriken were flying, and Naruto had just a few choices: block, dodge, or get cuts to bits. He did a bit of the first two and a lot of the last.

Naruto seemed bizarrely pleased with this arrangement, and he _did_ improve really fast. Much faster than she seemed to be able to. But then, no one was throwing things at her.

Yet.

iIi

From the corner of her eye, Sakura was almost sure she saw Sasuke smile.

"Naru_to_. _Out_. NOW."

"But Sakura-chaaaan!" whined Naruto, from where he was hiding from homework under the kitchen table.

Sakura's eye twitched. "BAKA NO NARUTO! Stop being a baby! Get up here _now_!"

"But it's so haaaaaaard!"

Sasuke giggled and pretended it was a manly snort.

"I'm counting to three. One, two…"

Pouting horribly, Naruto crawled out from under the table.

"Read it again."

The ridiculous frown on the blond's clownish face hardened into something far more mulishly dangerous.

"No."

"Read it again._"_

"_No."_

"Idiot," interrupted Sasuke. "Iruka-sensei is testing us on this today. Do what she says."

Naruto said nothing.

Sakura thought of what her mom did to make her do things she didn't want to do. "Look, it's not that hard," she wheedled, "It's not even very long, and you did it once already. Let's just go through it again—"

"How stupid can you get, you useless moron?" cut in Sasuke sharply. "I only had to read it twice to memorize it. Just go through it over and over until it sticks to your brain or something."

The silence that followed was packed so tight that Sakura shrank under the force of it.

"I hate you," said Naruto, and it wasn't yelled or punctuated by a fist shake or any of the other usual Naruto-isms they knew they were safe with. Then he turned and walked out the door.

"He left his shoes," whispered Sakura in horror, several too-long moments later.

iIi

"Sakura-chan?" asked Iruka worriedly, staring around an apartment that appeared to be completely empty apart from one puffy-eyed weeping girl-child. "Are you okay? Why are you crying? Where are the boys?"

He slid the front door shut behind him as Sakura burst into a fresh wave of tears.

"I—I—I c-c-can't do it, Sensei!" she sobbed, and reburied her flushed face in a kerchief.

"Sh, sh," soothed Iruka, lowering himself into the chair next to her and producing a fresh tissue to offer. He was, unfortunately, no stranger to distraught children. The ninja academy produced one or two on a daily basis, and it seemed to be one of those things teacher's aids were expected to see to while the "real" sensei took care of more important things. Like downing a third cup of coffee. "I'm sorry you're sad! Tell me why?"

"Sa-Sasuke is mean and Naruto just _left_—he didn't even take his shoes!"

He managed to a catch that much between hiccups; fortunately, now that an adult was on the scene to take things under control, little Sakura seemed to be calming considerably. Maybe he'd laid it on a bit thick when emphasizing her responsibility in tutoring the boys, but he _knew_ she had a bossy side buried deep down in there, and she was going to need it if this experiment was going to work. And he didn't want anything she heard about either of the boy's reputations to put her off helping them.

"I was just-just trying to help Naruto with the reading—Sensei, why can't Naruto read?"

_What?_ "You think… you think that Naruto can't read?" That was preposterous. There was no way he'd have made it this far through the academy if he couldn't read… right? Although that might explain an awful lot….

Sakura raised huge, pink-rimmed eyes to his. "Not at all, Sensei," she whispered, sounding awestruck. It had probably never occurred to her that there were children her age who couldn't even _read._ "Even the characters he knows, he's always mixing them up—"

_No, wait,_ thought Iruka furiously. _I've read his written work. It's always sloppy and short and not well put together at all, but—_

"I figured it out when he was writing, Sensei," Sakura went on, unknowingly addressing his inner monologue. "He just copies straight from the question, you know? And sometimes the words he put together made sense and sometimes they didn't. 'Cause he didn't know what any of them _mean. _ He was just drawing them, you know, like copying 'cept he didn't even know exactly what to copy, he just guesses."

Iruka felt a little sick to his stomach. Could Sakura be right about all of this? Had Naruto made it through two years of academy without really knowing how to read and write? He did skip class enough that it would be a miracle if he was literate on the same level as his peers, but still—.

"And Sasuke-kun is so mean about it," continued Sakura, voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "They fight _all_ the time. And Sensei—" he leaned closer at her beckoning, "Sasuke uses _live_ kunai. In the _house._ And Naruto is always all bandaged up—"

Iruka had heard enough. "Thank you for telling me all of this, Sakura-chan," he said warmly, "please come talk to me anytime you need to, okay? I'm here to help you kids, all three of you, and I'm so proud of you for doing what Hokage-sama asked. I'll come with you after school tomorrow. You've done great all by yourself for the last four days." He was bustling her out the door as he spoke. "Now I'm going to go find those boys—"

"Don't forget Naruto's shoes," reminded Sakura, wide-eyed as she slipped into her own sandals.

"Of course—thanks—" so Naruto was running around out there somewhere, barefoot and cut up, and Sasuke—who knew where Sasuke had gone off to?

A flash of movement had him scanning the rooftop, where a female ANBU had decided to perch in full view. Without a word, she pointed the way. He nodded his thanks, said goodbye to Sakura, and headed off at a trot.

Being a teacher was always more complicated than it looked.

iIi

He didn't find Naruto. He found Sasuke, some forty-five minutes later, sitting at the end of a dock on the lake near the Uchiha compound and looking profoundly miserable, though he tried to hide it.

The boy looked vaguely panicked when he spotted Iruka heading towards him and scrambled to his feet.

Iruka squatted next to him with a sigh. Sasuke watched him warily, but didn't speak. He'd always been a quiet kid; Naruto seemed to bring out more words than anyone or anything else. Might as well start with that.

"Have you been mean to Naruto, Sasuke?"

The small face tightened. Iruka waited.

"We have to pass the tests," said Sasuke finally, chin jutted in a silent challenge.

Iruka chose his words carefully. "And do you think Naruto's not doing his best?"

"It's not enough!" burst out Sasuke, and then suddenly everything about him snapped shut—his lips pressed together, his arms folded tight across his little chest, every muscle strained and tensed. The defenses were all up, and Iruka knew it.

"Go home, Sasuke," he said quietly, shooing the angry boy back to the street. "I'll go find Naruto."

iIi

ANBU Squirrel watched Iruka slump over Ichiraku's countertop, two little sandals dangling from one hand.

Looked like Naruto had decided not to be found that night. Cursing every last Uchiha under her breath, she bounded onwards, eyes sharp as she patrolled her Konoha.

iIi

Uchiha Sasuke sat bolt upright in his bed, fingers wrapped so tight around his bed clothes that it hurt.

Naruto hadn't come home and Iruka hadn't found him like he promised to. Dark eyes stared blankly at the opposite wall. He hadn't been that mean, had he? He just didn't like the pink haired girl; he liked it being just him and Naruto. And Naruto wasn't stupid, no matter what he'd believed before he got to know him a little better. How could be not know how to read? Was that girl right? Was that why he wasn't getting the school work done? They would have to go back to the academy, and Yoshikazu-sensei and Mizuki-sensei would be far meaner than Sasuke had ever been.

What if Itachi got him? What if he was coming for Sasuke next? If he did, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, so long as he killed Sasuke too.

So long as he didn't leave him alone again.

_No. Don't think that. Nonono. _

He was going to be strong. He was going to protect Naruto.

…Or maybe Naruto was safer if Sasuke had nothing to do with him. If Itachi got him, it would be all Sasuke's fault.

Yes. Sasuke had to be strong. He had to be alone so no one else would be in danger. He would train until no one could beat him. Then he would kill Itachi.

Then Naruto would be safe. But they probably wouldn't be friends anymore.

The moon set and the darkness deepened. Sasuke abandoned his bed and took up vigil on the couch, exhausted and feeling sick to his stomach.

His eyelids were too heavy; they kept drifting shut. He snapped on all the lights in the living room and kitchen, then decided to turn on all the lights in the bedrooms too. Maybe Naruto couldn't find their apartment in the dark; he was a dobe, after all.

The brightness of the overhead lights seemed to be dimming as Sasuke jerked awake, startled by the creeping light of dawn.

The apartment was still empty.

He pulled some ramen cups out of the cupboards and set them on the table.

It was midmorning when Sasuke woke again; his muscles were cramped, his head was fuzzy, and every inch of him was sick with dread and exhaustion. The taste of bad dreams was bitter on his tongue but thankfully he couldn't remember them. Stumbling over his own feet, the small boy dragged himself back to bed.

_Come home, Naruto. I'll protect you from Itachi. I'll protect you no matter what. _

_Don't leave me alone._

He fell asleep and dreamed about the time Itachi taught him to do a forward roll. There mom had laughed at them when they came in covered in grass. That was a long, long time ago.

_Come back, aniki,_ he longed blearily, and for a while, his overwrought mind didn't go any further than that.

iIi

"I'M STARVED!" bellowed someone very loud and very cheerful. "What's this, ramen? YATTA!"

Sasuke tumbled out of bed so fast that he knocked his elbow painfully on the floor. Tearing out of the room like it was on fire, he skidded into the front room bug-eyed and wild-haired, staring desperately at the loudmouth blond filling the kettle with water.

Naruto looked like he always did.

"Yo, Sasuke-yarou," he greeted cheerfully, leaving dirty footprints all over the kitchen floor as he set about raiding the fridge. "You look like you got zapped by five ANBU, dattebayo! Hehe!"

"Naruto," said Sasuke, and couldn't think of anything to say next. Fortunately, this wasn't a problem.

"Maaaaan, I pulled the _best_ prank this morning," chortled Naruto, carefully pouring boiling water in three ramen cups and hopping impatiently as they sat steaming. "You know those two stupidhead guards at the front gate? I set up firecrackers under their chairs and got all the colored chalk from the academy and ground it up into dust, see, and rigged _that_ into little toilet-paper bombs right over their heads—shoulda seen them, heehee! I think that one dude swallowed two senbon—"

Feeling dizzy, Sasuke dropped into his usual chair and leaned his head against his folded arms, ready to listen.

iIi

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**a/n: Weeell, this chapter needs to be re-written about three times. But that's not going to happen, and I figured you guys would rather have something over nothing. Let me know if there are major issues, kay? Thanks!**

**And thanks for bearing with the story despite the very infrequent updates. Happy Holidays to all!**


	9. In Which Bad Things Happen

**A/N: It's been... almost a year. And you'll hate me more when you get to the end. But! In case you've forgotten what this ficcy is all about, here's a recap: **

**Sasuke's pulled out of a lake after busting out of the hospital post-massacre. Sandaime Hokage decides leaving him all alone probably isn't such a great idea. Solution: move him in with Naruto. What happens when two messed up eight-year-olds start a household together? Blood, tears, and skipping school. Now they have to prove they make the grades without the classes, or they're giving up being shinobi for good. **

**Thanks so much to the truly thoughtful and encouraging reviewers. This story isn't on the scrap pile because of you. **

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iIi

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Naruto trained rain or shine, so Sasuke did the same.

They had too much to lose. And with Naruto's honestly curious "why?s" staring him in the face every time he repeated one of those time-honored maxims he'd heard all his life ("Early to bed!," "Eat all your vegetables," "Don't pick your nose in public," "No cookies before dinner!"), Sasuke really didn't know what to say. He had never questioned his parents' authority-or the authority of any of the adults in the clan. He did what they asked because they asked it. There was no "why".

Naruto ate ramen for breakfast. And lunch, and dinner, and midnight snacks, occasionally accompanied by a bit of dry bread smothered in marmalade. He drank milk straight from the carton and the only vegetables in his diet were the shriveled, freeze-dried cubes floating about the top of some brands of cup ramen, the brands Naruto bought only by accident. He ate any sort of sweet he came across-usually something sticky covered in pocket lint or bits of gravel he found abandoned on the sidewalk-and chewed old gum he discovered stuck to the underside of picnic tables. He stayed out all night when he was angry and up till dawn when he was excited or even when he was in one of those strained, twitchy, kind of embarrassed moods, in which case he seem to pass the nighttime hours watching TV shows that Sasuke had previously only caught glimpses of before the nearest grown-up flushed and dove to change the channel. Naruto walked barefoot outside and wore wet hair in the wind, brushed his teeth only when that one ANBU sat in the bathroom window and pointed its creepy animal mask at him until the task was done, and dressed in his favorite clothes regardless of the weather-too hot, too wet, too cold? Stained black T-shirt it is! ("an' don't I look _awesome_?"). In fact, Sasuke could tally every rule he'd ever heard, and think of at least one way Naruto had broken it. If half the threats Sasuke had heard regarding the dire consequences of rule-breaking were true, Naruto would be sick, kidnapped, and thoroughly dead a hundred times over. Or at the very least a doddering cripple. _Definitely_ not the strongest, weirdest, most-difficult-to-keep-down opponent Sasuke had ever faced in a taijutsu match. Sasuke couldn't wear him out in a hundred taijutsu matches. Oh, he could beat him-and it was _not_ getting harder and harder to do that with every fight-but he couldn't subdue him. That kid just never stopped.

Maybe ramen really was The Ultimate Ninja Secret.

So Sasuke didn't mention the rules anymore. He tried to live mostly off ramen, though it made his stomach hurt after the third cup. There wasn't really time to cook anything else-not with all of the studying and training they had to do, and the rice always burned anyway. He didn't stay up as late as Naruto because when he tried he fell asleep in front of him, and though Naruto never mentioned it, Sasuke's cheeks burned with embarrassment every time he thought about it. So he dragged himself into bed before he eyelids tumbled down on their own and pretended he'd been up for hours when Naruto rolled out of his rumpled mess of a bed around noon the next day. And if he spent the hours Naruto needed for Sakura and Iruka to pound information past that super-thick skull of his furiously plotting and researching strategies that should keep Naruto from any chance of winning a spar the next day, there was no way anyone could know that. He always stared super hard at jutsu scrolls or textbooks while he did it.

There was one notable exception: nose-picking. If he saw one more excavated Naruto-booger, he'd carve out the nostril it came from with a blunted kunai. Some rules were not meant to be broken, dobe or not.

Naruto was doing better than ever. He was relentlessly awful at reading, but Sakura had finally given in to Sasuke's urging to just read the material herself, retell it to Naruto in idiot-proof story form, and call it done. Sakura called it cheating; Sasuke called it being a ninja. She didn't really argue after that.

She did keep sneaking little reading lessons into their sessions, though, like painting certain words or phrases onto the targets they used for shuriken practice and yelling them out every time Naruto made a hit. And she always looked like she wanted to cry when Naruto pouted and kicked things (the table, Sasuke; whichever was closer) and announced he'd never wanted to read anyway. "I'm gonna be Hokage, hear me?! Who cares if you don't know some stupid kanji if you're _Hokage? _I'll just blast 'em all to bits, dattebayo!"

Sasuke didn't bother to point out that not being able to read and write properly made it pretty much impossible to fill a position that seemed to consist entirely of understanding and filling out endless paperwork. He was just glad that Naruto had the uncanny ability to remember everything Sakura said. _Everything._

It made him angry sometimes. Which was stupid, 'cause it was their golden ticket to Naruto passing the exams with a decent enough score to keep them out of the academy, but still... Sasuke taught him everything _else_ he knew. Sasuke scrubbed dirt and grass stains out of his clothes and bandaged scrapes and cuts every night because of Naruto. He gave himself headaches analyzing the strengths and weaknesses and possibilities to every single kata and variation he literally pounded into Naruto's muscle memory, and had even started showing him sacred clan kata-not on purpose, really, because Naruto was NOT Uchiha and not actually worthy, but he had to use them to defend against Naruto's forever-improving attacks and Naruto learned from every move Sasuke made whether Sasuke wanted him to or not.

(Then he bastardized them until they were almost unrecognizable and threw them into all the wrong combinations, of course, so it's not like Sasuke was really betraying his clan. Really.)

But Naruto didn't talk about Sasuke. His mouth was always spewing _something,_ but if it wasn't noodles, it was Sakura.

"An' you know how Sakura-chan explained _that?_" Sasuke's infuriating housemate shouted across the lunch table, spraying noodles _and _Sakura-babble. Sasuke stabbed his chopsticks into his ramen cup a bit too hard, it seemed, as the blunt tip of one of them had punched right threw the cardboard bottom and dented the tabletop. When Naruto failed to abort his Sakura-story, Sasuke placed his palms flat beneath his end of the table and pushed carefully upward, sending the rapidly-leaking ramen broth pooling around the base of his cup streaming into Naruto's orange-clad lap.

"-just like how Ichiraku's is e-kwa-diss-tant from the shoe store and that dango pla-OY! WHERE'D THIS COME FROM-are you-are you _wasting ramen? _TEME!"

Normally this would be the cue to demonstrate to Naruto just how far behind his taijutsu was, but suddenly Sasuke just didn't feel like it. Instead of meeting Naruto's playfully aggressive pounce head-on, he ducked under the table, wondering distractedly why his head felt so funny. First he'd lost his appetite, then there was this weird ringing in his ears all through dinner, and while it was probably Naruto's fault, he'd never had that reaction to just listening to the idiot talk before. And he was...dizzy... .

Naruto was shouting something, of course, but his ears couldn't make sense of it. A bare foot smacked into his side, and he lashed out angrily, belatedly, with a kunai snatched from a pocket in his shirt hem before his brain could begin to catch up with his hand. Naruto's leg froze, half-cocked for a second kick with deep red droplets blooming into an outline of the clean line Sasuke'd just cut into into his calf muscle.

There was a hiss of shock or pain as the injury registered. Sasuke dropped the kunai guiltily, and it clanged tinnily against the kitchen tile. He waited for the swearing and braced for the inevitable counter-attack, but when Naruto dropped slowly to squat under the table beside him, those wide, wary eyes were filled with... concern.

"Are you having some sort of awake-nightmare?" demanded Naruto. "You're acting really strange today, Sasuke-yarou." There was blood dripping all the way to the floor now. Ramen broth was still leaking from the tabletop, too.

At the word 'nigthmare', Sasuke's vision seemed to go red and black, Naruto's face inverting into negative colors, black black hair and red red eyes-and the words were coming up in his mouth, but they felt thick and sour and he clamped teeth and lips both but his stomach pushed and contracted and it was coming out of his _nose-_

Sasuke vomited all over the kitchen floor.

"YIIIIGH!" screeched Naruto, leaping almost into the living room in alarm. "AAAAHHH! GROSSGROSSGROSS! SASUKE! YOU'RE-YOU'RE _DYING!_ AAHHH-" and he babbled on, incoherent and bouncing on the spot and hyperventilating, while Sasuke wretched and heaved again and again, every bit of ramen he had _ever eaten_ lurching its way up, while hot salty water squeezed out over his cheeks and his skin was burning all over and he couldn't breathe because his guts were lurching up his throat.

And then it was over, so he came crawling out from under the table feeling much, much better, wanting nothing more than a glass (or ten) of water to attempt to dilute the flavor of half-digested ramen clinging cloyingly to his mouth and nostrils. Naruto staggered away as though afraid that contact might send him into an equally pathetic state, then stilled and reached a hand out to steady the other boy, eyes nearly popping with panic.

"Water," croaked Sasuke, aching is no many ways he was beginning to feel numb.

"Uh, sure, of course! Water! One second! I'll get you water! Here ya go-" Naruto burst into the bathroom spilling water from glasses in both hands, while Sasuke leaned heavily over the sink, trembling a little from dragging himself in from the kitchen. It was hard to pull the cup in Naruto's hand because his vision was blurred with tears and then he nearly missed his mouth, sloshing cool clear water all over his face, but he needed to wash the tears away anyway. Naruto bounced from foot to foot in the bathroom doorway, radiating anxiety.

"You need more water? I can get you more water. How much water do you need?"

"Don't need water," mumbled Sasuke. "I think I'll just go to bed." He stumbled determinedly down the hall to do just that.

Naruto followed him. "Sasuke... are you... are you... gonna _die?_"

Sasuke began wishing he would go away. He wanted to tell the idiot that of _course_ he wasn't going to die, it was just the flu, he'd had it before and of course he had it again because he'd broken all the rules and why wasn't Naruto sick too and maybe if Naruto started blowing chunks Sasuke could laugh at him and he really didn't want to think of how his Mama always smoothed his hair and cooled his face with a damp cloth when he had the flu and why couldn't he stop crying and where was his bed-

"I'll go-go get Iruka-sensei," said Naruto, sounding oddly uncertain and scared. "Don't die, teme, okay? I'll find sensei and if I can't find him I'll get the Old Man and they are NOT gonna let you die, I won't let them, you'll be okay from the faloo or whatever it is that's bothering you, just stay here okay and I'll be back and everything will be okay-"

_Usuratonkachi,_ thought Sasuke, crawling miserably under the covers.

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iIi

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It was the middle of the end, Mizuki reflected bitterly, busily re-organizing student files for the special jounin who had, suddenly and without explanation, replaced Yoshikazu-san. Yoshikazu wasn't the only one out of a job, either. Three new teachers filled sudden openings, two of them fellow teacher's aids like him, bypassing him for promotion once again. At least Iruka hadn't been promoted, Hokage's pet that he was. Mizuki himself had been in for some questioning, but as a hapless teacher's aid loyally following a superior's orders, he'd been let off... or so he was meant to believe.

Blasted kyuubi brat. Stupid clan prince. Two brats make a little ruckus, and the entire academy staff gets rolled in for inquisition. Mizuki didn't buy for a moment that he'd heard the end of it. They still hadn't closed the case over that stupid mission that killed his teammate, and that was _years_ ago.

Well, a year and half, anyway. They'd never been able to prove anything, but he knew they still watched him. Were probably watching him even more closely now.

He'd killed for less.

Mizuki was sliding the last of the files into their designated drawer when an eerily familiar voice echoed through the empty academy halls, summoned, perhaps, by his murderous thoughts.

"IRUKA-SENSEEEI! WHERE ARE YOU? SEEENSEEI!"

Mizuki held still, indecisive. The building was empty, everyone else having long since left for home. Only his new "superior's" anal organizational demands had kept Mizuki working this late-that, and he needed a few positive marks on his record, a good recommendation or two. So he should just leave the demon alone. It seemed like the perfect opportunity, but still….

The door to his classroom slammed open, rendering that plan of action moot.

"IRU-oh, Mizuki-sensei," said Naruto, eyes wide and desperate in an uncharacteristically pale face, breath puffing unevenly. The demon stared at him a moment, hesitant and wary, before suddenly plunging forwards. "Um-Mizuki-sensei-do you know-do you know where Iruka-sensei is? I need him right now!"

"_Why_ do you need Iruka-sensei?" drawled Mizuki, turning unhurriedly to push in and lock up each of the file drawers.

"Do you know where he is?" hedged Naruto, taking a step or two into the classroom and looking around intently, as though Iruka might be hiding under a desk or behind the word wall.

"Nope," shrugged Mizuki, enjoying the disappointment clouding the demon's face. Such a stupid, stupid little demon. He turned his glee into a kindly smile. "Tell me what you needed Iruka for, and I'll help you instead."

The kid stared at him, again making some kind of hesitant decision. The thinking process sure looked painful on his idiot's face. "Sasuke-Sasuke's, um, dying-or he has-the fa...faloo-something like that, I don't remember-he threw up all over the floor and he's all white an' shaky and I DON'T WANT HIM TO DIE AND YOU GOTTA HELP HIM 'CAUSE-"

"Hang on a minute, Naruto," said Mizuki. "Sasuke has the flu?"

Naruto nodded frantically.

"Did his skin get all hot, or did he look cold and sweaty at the same time?"

"Yeah, yeah-his hands felt super hot, but his face was all white an' he couldn't walk right and stuff-"

Mizuki composed an artful mix of horror and compassion to mask his delight. "That is definitely the flu. You did the right thing coming for help, Naruto, but Sasuke might die anyway. There's not much you can do to save someone, especially someone young like Sasuke, from the flu. And you have to get him help right away if he's going to have any chance at all. I can help you find Iruka-sensei, but by the time we get to him and he helps you get the herbs Sasuke needs, it will probably be too late."

Not even halfway through the speech, Naruto was tugging at his sleaves and panicking and pleading-all but begging at his feet. "NO! Sasuke can't-can't die, we gotta help him NOW! Mizuki-sensei, you can help him, right? PLEASE!" he blabbered on in this vein, and Mizuki allowed himself to be dragged toward the door.

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iIi

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ANBU Squirrel arrived on shift to find the Uchiha huddled into a shivering heap in his bed, Naruto-chan nowhere to be seen, and a pungent mixture of blood, vomit, and ramen broth puddled beneath the kitchen table.

She held up a hand to halt the exit of the ANBU agent she was replacing, fingers flickering in silent communication.

_Subject One location? _

Her colleague indicated that Naruto-chan had left eighteen minutes ago to find the chuunin Umino Iruka, and headed in the direction of the academy. When she pressed for more details, her fellow ANBU shrugged it off, obviously eager to go off duty.

_Code Yellow assignment. Two subjects, one agent. Subject Two situation more pressing. Will send medical assistance. _

And she was on her own again. With a soundless sigh, Squirrel slid open the Uchiha's window, lazily dodging two kunai rigged into fairly well-wired trap. The child didn't stir aside from his continued shivering, but a quick assessment of vitals proved that he was merely sleeping, though his temperature was raised and his heart rate high. Nothing life threatening, but he could do with some medical attention just in case. In the context of his young age and recent trauma, caution was the logical approach.

Which was, no doubt, the same pattern of thought that led her colleague to the conclusion that on a low-threat assignment with two kids to watch and one nin to do it, the one sick in bed probably needed more attention than the one running around the village as he did on so many other eventless nights. Out of the two subjects, however, she far preferred the latter to the former. _Time to get out of ANBU, _she reminded herself once again. _There should be no "favorite" subjects. Not to mention that this is the fourth time in two months the boss's scheduled babysitting duty into my roster… so subtle, boss._

The kitchen needed seeing to. While not at all part of mission parameters for this particular assignment, cleaning up small pools of bodily fluids was something every ANBU knew exactly how to do.

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iIi

.

_Must've fallen asleep watching TV again, _were the first distinct thoughts to put themselves together in Naruto's muddled dream. _Was dreaming about flowers and… and being carried away by a huge duck—eh? Am I still dreaming?!_ It certainly felt like he was being carried, and none to gently, either. He tried to adjust his position, hoping both to wake up completely from this oddly unpleasant sleep and to shift his arms and legs into more natural, comfortable positions. But they weren't moving—well they _were,_ but he couldn't separate his limbs and something was clenched tight around his middle and his head was bobbing up and down uncomfortably because the giant duck was taking huge, swinging steps, and—

_Chikuso! _ _This—this is not a duck, not a—a dream— _

Naruto screamed.

.

iIi

.

Mizuki was running faster than he'd ever believed himself capable of, giddy and terrified and pumping with adrenaline to the point that it felt like he'd snorted something illegal. He was doing it. Ditching Konoha. Defecting. Giving them all the middle finger and leaving it all behind.

He hadn't meant to make such a weighty decision so rashly. But if there was one thing he'd learned from the shinobi world, it's that you don't get the same chance twice. Time for deliberation was a rare and risky commodity. Try to take the time to figure out if you're choosing life or death, and you've chosen the latter.

Still, he could have turned back at any point—leading Naruto through the village, feeding composed-on-the-spot stories about a tiny white flower with mysterious flu-healing properties growing in the forest just beyond the walls, making sure that the brat processed the instructions for bypassing the sentries, parting ways to create a distraction before slipping into the outer forests to track the kid, where he was exactly where Mizuki had told him to be, frantically picking flowers—any kind of flowers he could find in a twilight forest—and whispering promises to his beloved Sasuke.

They should get married, those two. _Too bad they'll be dead. _

He almost turned back then. Up until this point, he could change his mind with few foreseeably negative consequences. Even if he got caught, he could claim to have seen an errant (former, but a loving teacher always cared, right?) student up to no good and followed out of concern. Even if they didn't believe him, what could they do? Put him on the watch list for suspicious behavior? Too bad he was already on it. And resenting it just a bit more bitterly with each new day.

Konoha had never been good to him, or good enough _for_ him. A mindless mass of clan-worshipping, hypocritical bigots, that's all Konoha had to offer. They were rotting from the inside out, soft and impotent and corrupt—what was the Uchiha massacre, if not perfect proof of all that was wrong with the Village Hidden in the Leaves?

Maybe that crackhead Uchiha Itachi had the right idea.

With this thought, Mizuki approached the demon on soundless feet, sliding a pad of cotton-wool seeped in a powerful sedative from its pouch as he went. It was undiluted, the dosage high enough to kill a child of Naruto's size.

_This is no child, _Mizuki reminded himself, watching Naruto's eyes roll back in his head as he ceased struggling against his unseen attacker. He kept the cloth pressed firmly over the mouth and nose a moment longer, just in case. _This is the demon. The demon that ended everything good in my life. _

He used bandages to bind limp limbs tightly together, making a bundle he could hold easily over one shoulder. For one brief moment uncertainty wracked him again, thoughts of all the supplies—including the giant shuriken he generally kept strapped to his back—abandoned in his apartment.

But there was no time for regrets or hesitations, and he took to the trees with his cargo, sprinting for all he was worth. Surely a young and malleable jinchuuriki—jinchuuriki to the great and infamous Kyuubi no Yoko, no less—could buy him all he'd left behind and more. Much, much more.

He nearly dropped his burden when it began to wriggle. _How is he conscious? How—how—_

The demon screamed.


	10. In Which the Hero is Late

Sasuke woke to damp bedclothes, a searing headache, a dark room, and the distinct feeling that things were really, really not okay.

The first problem etched itself in the lightless seams of his bedroom door. Sasuke never turned off the corridor lights, not since his first night in the new apartment. After the second night, Naruto never turned them off either. Keeping his breaths even, Sasuke turned his head slowly, silently against the pillow, watching the stillness of his bedroom. There were no unusual sounds or scents and no misshaped shadows could be seen from his bed, but he knew better than to think that meant he was safe or alone. Shivering slightly as the night cooled his sweat-drenched clothes-which weren't pajamas, but the street clothes he had put on the previous morning-he reached under his pillow for the kunai he kept there.

It was gone. Trying to control his mounting panic was a lot harder with his head pounding the way it was. Forcing breath past his lips, he slipped his hand carefully between his mattress and the wall, biting back a sob of relief when his fingertips brushed against the rough canvas of his shuriken holster. He hadn't been completely disarmed, then. Feeling braver with cold sharp metal braced between his fingers, he sat up and confronted the silence.

"Show yourself!"

His voice sounded weak and scratchy and cracked in the middle, but that was no reason for tears to heat the corners of his eyes. Angry, dizzy, and humiliated, he wiped at them furiously with his shuriken-free hand, telling himself that this was no time to give in to childish weakness, flu or no flu. What would his father say if he could see him now?

The apartment stayed dark and silent and empty.

"…Naruto?"

Nothing.

"Oi! Dobe! Narut—" the last was swallowed in a rash of dry coughing that left his throat burning. No longer willing to huddle under his blankets, he stumbled to his feet and out his bedroom door, head swimming and limbs trembling with cold and sickness. It took two tries to get Naruto's bedroom door open, and before he was halfway through it he was slammed painfully against the doorjamb and then to the floor, a breathless shout croaking from his raw throat. Shuriken flew from his hand, clattering haphazardly against the bare walls of Naruto's room.

Heart and head pounding a painful duet of full-on panic now that he had stupidly thrown his only weapons, Sasuke stared madly around the room, crouched in the most stable defensive stance his trembling limbs could muster. There was nothing—nothing but the coconut-sized leather punching bag Naruto had apparently rigged to defend his bedroom door, swinging idly on its rope.

It was a good thing his vocabulary had recently expanded to accommodate a circumstance such as this. With no idea how else to cope with the situation, Sasuke mashed the tears from his eyes, sat on the cold wooden floor, and cursed out his flatmate with all the sincerity of a recently broken eight-year-old heart. Then he pulled himself to his feet, stumbled the short distance down the hallway to his own room, using the walls for support and carefully ducking the hanging punching bag, shivered his way into a dry set of street clothes and all the weapon pouches he possessed, and set his course determinedly, if a bit shakily, for the front door.

He had to stop to throw up again along the way.

iIi

Getting out of being tied up was one of the first things Sasuke had decided he and Naruto would work on as they set out to face old man Hokage's challenge head-on. Working on it had mostly consisted of Sasuke tying Naruto up as tightly and painfully as possible—and dangling upside down anytime he could rig it—and then smirking his stupid I-am-Sasuke-this-is-how-I-laugh smirk as Naruto flailed around trying to get out of it. When Naruto pointed out, loudly, that Sasuke also needed to practice breaking out of bonds, Sasuke calmly allowed himself to be wrapped in Naruto's most wicked knots with a beatifically bored cast to his arrogant face, Naruto circling him distrustfully.

There was a jutsu for that, apparently. And Sasuke had mastered it before he ever suggested anyone tying anyone else up. Of course.

Naruto had been frantically attempting to copy him ever since, and had learned a lot of tricks along the way—which side of a knot you could put pressure on without inadvertently pulling everything tighter, how to tense up your muscles while being bound and relax them to make that extra millimeter of wiggle room, how slowly you had to move when trying to slide out of ninja wire without getting skinned in the process—but he couldn't do that jutsu. No matter how hard he tried, he could not figure out that jutsu—but it was just a matter of time—

_I have no time!_

He was tied up, he needed to saved Sasuke, Sasuke was gonna DIE, he always knew Misuki-sensei was a bastard but what the hell was the bastard trying to do to him now? He had to make noise, had to get attention, he needed to tell Old Man Hokage about Sasuke, he needed those white-mask guys to come—

As Naruto thrashed and shouted and rolled on the forest floor, Mizuki felt his heart rate spike dangerously. He had never struggled with control in high-stress combat situations, but the enormity of defecting combined with the brazen theft of the village's only jinchuuriki raised the stakes to levels he had never personally shouldered responsibility for. There was no superior here to turn to and blindly follow. No teammates to curse for incompetence even as they absorbed the brunt of the threat. Mizuki had acted on his own, and whatever the consequences, he would face them completely and utterly alone.

Alone except for the demon.

It truly was a demon, he could see without doubt now. Whatever fraction of being that could have been claimed as human had long since burned away and reformed into a masterful mask—as the kitsune in the ancient stories, the kyuubi no yoko had wrapped itself in human disguise, and thrashed and shouted now on the forest floor even as it wriggled masterfully from the bandages its stubby childish limbs were bound in.

There were holes in Mizuki's soul, holes shaped like the people he had lost—and all but one had been lost on a single say, within a single hour. Holes that never healed, never lightened, never shrank. He had learned to walk around them, to avoid and ignore them. He could do that. What he couldn't hide from was the fear. Mizuki did not believe that anyone who had not stood in the presence of the fully manifested Kyuubi no Yoko would ever truly know fear. In his mind it was a color, burning red-orange, putrid and paralyzing, rising in dreams and never fully shunned even in the brightest part of day—and with it the certainty that everything you are, everything you have, everything you love—it can be obliterated in less than a heartbeat. It was that fear that froze his limbs now, and the source of that fear that thrashed and struggled at his feet.

There were no more thoughts of gain or escape. The prize of potential ransom no longer held any appeal. Alone, he had a chance—not much of once, but a chance—to reach another border, to evade the hunter-nin long enough to negotiate new alliances. There was no entry for him in any village's bingo book, no bloodline inheritance to keep secure, no significant intel worth a great price to protect. Mizuki was no fool. He knew his own worth in the eyes of the world. It was his insignificance that drove him to betray a world that had already rejected him, and that same insignificance that might protect him.

There was something he had to do first.

How many seconds had passed? Three, four? The demon was still screeching—that was the first problem to solve. A kunai appeared in his hand and reversed into slashing position with less than a thought; a second later he was kneeling on the demon's chest, one hand fisted in its hair and yanking back, exposing the throat. Just cutting the throat probably wouldn't be enough—he'd already poisoned the container and learned that even a lethal dose couldn't so much as keep it unconscious—but not even a demon could scream for help if its vocal chords were ripped out.

The rest would be figured out once the nine-tails was silenced.

Blue eyes caught his, flashing in abject terror before fixating on the kunai. Something hot and wet flooded against Mizuki's ankle where it fell between the demon's legs, momentarily distracting him; then the smell of urine reached his nostrils, and he laughed. The laughter was uncontrolled and painful; but who knew? Even a demon would wet itself before the hand that takes life. How many times had he watched in disgusted amusement as his opponents were reduced to this? And all those hardened killers, those elite, those _true shinobi_, had any of them brought the Demon of Demons down? Felt it trapped and trembling under their hands, soaking in its own piss? He alone could do this—this that the Yondaime himself had been unable to do.

"Fear me, demon."

Kunai bit into skin. Demon's blood spilled.

iIi

_I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming—_

The moment the medic appeared, ANBU Squirrel was out the door.

It wasn't even a med-nin—just a civilian doctor unable to use chakra, often preferred by jumpy post-mission ANBU—so she shouldn't have left, she knew it, and she did it anyway. But the Uchiha wouldn't be left alone, the medic knew how to summon help, and if her logic-be-damned gut feeling was right, she was already too late.

She ran in the direction the previous sentry had indicated, senses stretched to the max for any sign of someone small and bright-headed and distressingly good at hiding—but he shouldn't be hiding. He had gone to look for Umino Iruka, whom she knew by sight.

The Academy was dark, locked and empty. Her next stop would have been Umino's apartment, had she any idea where it was. Did Naruto know? If he hadn't found Umino at the Academy, which was most likely where he had searched for him, what would he do next? Had any other teachers been around? Would he have sought anyone else's help? The assumption was that he was worried about the Uchiha, and Squirrel had observed enough of their interactions to know that all of the Uzumaki's boundless energy and enthusiasm would be focused on helping his flatmate. And he wouldn't be doing so quietly. So _why can't I find him?_

The area between Naruto's apartment and the Academy had been thoroughly covered, so Squirrel went the opposite way. She would just make a quick sweep—she could think of no reason for Naruto to head towards the outer wall—but search patterns existed for a reason, and she had failed to determine a higher priority search area, so—ah. There was something going on at the west gate.

"Report."

The chuunin on duty took in her mask, her tattoo, the fiercely focused force of her chakra, and snapped to attention. "Hai! A distraction appears to have been staged. We are determining the cause."

_So you know someone's up to something but don't know the someone or the something. _

"Call for backup," she commanded, and disappeared past the gate and into the woods. A heartbeat later she was back. "The backup—get someone with dogs. Inuzuka. Hatake. Or any decent tracker. _NOW!_"

"Wait—mission code! What's the mission code? We can't accept the order without-"

"I don't have one. Report that too." And she was gone.

iIi

"Sasuke! What are you doing out here? Do you know how late it is? Where's Naruto? …Are you sick? You are! Come here—"

Umino Iruka tended to get gregarious after the third beer. He didn't drink often, and always in moderation, but the stress of his "volunteer" tutoring on top of his Marking Slave duties had led to a less-hesitant-than-usual acceptance of an invitation to have a few drinks with his genin-day buddies. The only ones missing were Team 12, due back from a B rank in two days, and Mizuki, who was in a perpetually foul mood since the shake-up at the Academy. The night was going well until they spilled out The Poisoned Kunai on their way to The Yellow Toad and nearly tripped over an extremely irritable Uchiha Sasuke—who was, on closer inspection, white-faced, sweating, and very upset.

"Where's Naruto?" for an eight-year-old, he was scarily successful at making a basic question sound like a threat.

"Where's Naruto? That's what I just asked you—ah. How long has he been missing? Oh, wait, you're barely standing—let's find a place to sit down—"

And wearily waving his impatient comrades away, Iruka resigned himself to returning to the duties of teacher-ing.

iIi

"Unauthorized exit and call for backup by an agent took place at the West Gate. Small explosion blamed on faulty explosive tags reported shortly before—minimal damage, but one of the tags was noxious. Chuunin on duty reported suspected diversion tactics, immediate investigation instigated. Unauthorized ANBU agent requested tracker-nin, preferably dogs, for backup."

"Which agent was it, who called for backup?"

"Squirrel, Sir."

"Send backup. No, wait—I'll go. Handle this for me, will you?"

A hefty stack of paperwork changed hands.

"Aw, Captain—don't go just to get out of paperwork—I'm not technically cleared for this, you know—"

A single grey eye glared coldly.

"Squirrel's on babysitting duty tonight," drawled the Captain, already snapping on his second armguard. "If she called for backup, she needs backup. Alert Team Delta. Report to the Hokage. And—" the subordinate gulped, sinking under the unexpected gravity of the situation, "—don't forget to finish all that paperwork. And file it. No, don't file it. Your forgeries of my signature are pitiful. Really, you must work on that…"

Deft hands completed the series of seals, and with a chakra-laden slam, a motley team of nin-hounds slipped into dimension. "Start with a 50-meter radius of the West Gate," came the command, "track ANBU Squirrel and any other familiar scents. Scatter!"

Obeying his own order, ANBU Captain Inu disappeared.

iIi

"I _know_ what time it is, but this is something Hokage-sama _must _be aware of," gritted Iruka, feverish kid dangling from one hand and scary don't-mess-with-sensei tone scaring even his fellow chuunin into leaning warily away. "There are meant to be ANBU monitors on these two children at all times. One child is missing and the other is unmonitored. This is an issue of village—no, _national _security_._ Get your butt in there and report it or so help me—"

"Ah, Iruka-kun," came a deceptively gentle voice, and both chuunin jumped back in alarm before bending hastily into bows as Sandaime Hokage appeared regally before them. "I have just received an ANBU report that may be related to your concerns. Did I hear you say that Naruto-kun is missing?"

Hiruzen did not waste much time hearing the report; as soon as Sasuke's account was given and a messenger dispatched to summon the civilian medic who should have been with the boy, the Hokage left him to Iruka-kun's capable care and excused himself to make immediate use of his scrying crystal.

_Where are you, Naruto-kun? May assistance and protection find you quickly; may they not be needed… I find myself wishing for this to be one of your foolish pranks…_

iIi

In the moment before the blade descended, the screaming stopped. Flesh split as wide blue eyes narrowed in sudden concentration, blood bloomed from a slim neck as a small but capable hand deflected the final plunge of the blade. Something tugged at Mizuki's thigh as he began to pull back in surprise—the demon had changed—

As childish howls of shock and fear sounded from the base of a tree meters away, the hand of Uzumaki Naruto plunged a stolen kunai deep into his attacker's belly, and _twisted. _

The cry of horror and pain lurching from Mizuki's gaping mouth burned to rage as the body beneath him shifted. Scarred, baby-round cheeks and wide terrified eyes became a painted porcelain ANBU mask; short, helpless limbs became long and powerful and sure; and as hot crimson continued to fountain from a cut-open neck, the hand at Mizuki's belly wielded blood-slick metal with fatal precision, gutting the traitor with his own kunai.

"Why-" gasped Mizuki, "Why—for a monster—for _the_ _demon_—"

Rough hands seized Mizuki's shoulders, toppling him to the unyielding forest floor, where the pain burned and churned his existence into unrelenting agony, voicing itself in bellows and moans that tore his throat with the last of his breath. _To die like this…_

"Stay with me," ordered a voice framed in harsh authority, and an ANBU captain was kneeling over his dying subordinate, pushing her mask aside and applying pressure to the gash at her neck. Nin-hounds were arriving from all directions, moving into patrol patterns, nudging assuringly against their first-aid-administering captain, crawling sorrowfully up to the sobbing child hidden in the roots of a tree, where they licked the tears and snot from his death-pale face.

"You did good." The captain's gruff voice. "You did good, soldier. Just hold on a little longer. Help is coming. This is an order. An order from your captain. Can you hear me? Show me that you hear me!"

ANBU Squirrel's fingers twitched. Her lips moved; blood bubbled there, and she choked, unable to speak or breathe. Her fingers moved again, lifting feebly towards her captain, shifting slowly through the signals—

_Official… request… dismissal from… ANBU… _

"Granted," whispered her Captain. "Anything you want. Just—"

The hand fell.

iIi

Alone in the shadows and the chakra-glow of his seer crystal, Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen let his weary head fall.

He had seen it all. Seen the murderer's mortal strike, seen the ANBU appear at the edge of the vision a second too late. There was no time—no time for clones or projectiles or distractions or substitutions. His ANBU kunoichi had time for one act—most nin would not have had time even for that—and she chose the simplest of answers; henge and kawarimi, the transformation and replacement techniques taught to Academy students.

She replaced herself with the demon-child and accepted his death-blow with his face.

Uzumaki Naruto had seen it, too.

Barely visible in the depths of the glowing ball, a little boy huddled and sobbed as nin-dogs chewed away the last of his bonds and rubbed wet noses over his tears; meters away, their master knelt between two broken bodies, and tried desperately to force life back into one.

iIi

"You can see him now, Sasuke-kun."

Still weak and sore-jointed but feeling much better than he had the last time he'd seen his errant roommate, Sasuke tiptoed around the doorjamb and lifted his eyes apprehensively to the figure seated listlessly on the hospital bed, face turned to the window.

"Naruto," he called, uncertain.

Blue eyes whipped around. "Sasuke! Are you really okay? Iruka-sensei told me you didn't die but I couldn't see you because—because—" the rough voice cut off suddenly, and Naruto's eyes lost focus, skittering around the room. Sasuke saw that his hands were trembling.

"Iruka-sensei told me that you got sick too," he offered. It was a lie and Sasuke knew it, but he would go along with it until the adults started leaving them alone again. It had been a day and a night and half a day since Naruto went running off to look for Iruka-sensei, and while Sasuke was miserable and useless with fever and chills for most of that time, he was not oblivious. "Do you have a fever?"

"No," said Naruto.

"Do you wanna go home? Iruka said we could go home if you want to."

Naruto looked at him. What he was looking for, Sasuke couldn't guess, so he just stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked back.

"…Okay," said Naruto. "Yeah. Let's go home. Go out for a minute, I'll get changed."

As they started down the long fluorescent-lit corridor, hands in pockets and shoulders occasionally bumping, one of Hokage-sama's chuunin assistants ambling casually along behind them, Sasuke turned to Naruto with a frown.

"One thing," he ordered. Naruto glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Sasuke huffed. "Ramen. I don't want to even look at it. Or smell it. No way am I tasting it. _No more ramen._"

"WHAAA?" cried Naruto, hands coming up in distress.

Sasuke smirked. "You heard me."

"_Bastard!"_

iIi

**A/N: **Just a shout-out to all you wonderful people who haven't given up on me yet. I'm doing my best increase the update speed. Thank you so much for the alerts, favorites, and most of all the REVIEWS! Keeps me addicted to writing this stuff, y'know? Arigato gozaimasu!

On a separate note, my Naruto/Harry Potter crossover, _My Other Son,_ is being turned into a challenge. I'm still figuring out how to make that work, exactly, but I know I won't be able to continue it in the foreseeable future and I really want to see it continued, so… if you have suggestions for creating a successful challenge/want to take up the challenge, please let me know via PM or review. Thank you!


	11. In Which There is a Hole in a Wall

Hatake Kakashi woke up and did not want to be alive.

He wished this morning was anything but normal. Anything but soft grey barracks walls, the comforting scent of rice porridge, and the strong steady beat of his own heart.

There was incense burning before a photograph. This was irregular, but not unusual. Just another photograph he didn't need because his mind would always supply, in perfect lines, the face he longed to see animated and aging and anywhere but in his own memories.

Stupid heart.

"_Name? What's her name?" begs Naruto, hands staining crimson from where they touch Kakashi's hands, pressing with him over the place where there should be a pulse but instead there is skin and muscle and arteries split and spilling. He crawled to them. Crawled quivering and crying, anxiously circling nin-hounds whining and pushing him away, away from the dead, but he wouldn't stop. Wouldn't stop until he was there, touching her, crying for her, trying to wake her. _

If Kakashi stayed away, Naruto would grow up better. He could still tell himself that. Naruto was pure and proud and shining and determined—of course he was, he was _theirs. _Kakashi was something else entirely. Something wrong. Something deathly.

_Kakashi lets the small hands reach, press, grasp. He doesn't know what else to do. Naruto's hands are getting bloody, bloody from trying to hug a corpse, and that is wrong, but what can he do? What can he _do_?_

Sensei's son didn't ask about the traitor. About being nearly-murdered. What sort of kid was he, to only ask for a faceless ANBU's name? He wasn't supposed to be aware of his shadowy guardians, though Kakashi harbored no delusions on that front. He knew all along that Squirrel was engaging beyond mission parameters. Was coming back to life as she bent, even broke the rules. Which was why he kept assigning her that particular mission. She was the last he trusted, after Itachi—

_Medics arrive, pull them apart, wrap Naruto in a blanket, try to give Kakashi a blanket. He tries not to see how Naruto reaches for her. Screams and writhes until Kakashi remembers what the kid wanted, begged and pleaded and demanded for, and decides: _this, I can do. _He twists out of reach of his medic, who is under the mistaken impression that he needs some sort of seeing-to, and appears next to the bellowing bundle that is Naruto. They have just taken a blood sample, to test for residual levels and possible additives to the sedative the chuunin, Mizuki, successfully subdued a jinchuuriki with. Making sure they can safely administer more, if it is deemed necessary. _

There was no one left. And he couldn't do it himself.

He couldn't.

"_Tsukushi," he tells Naruto, bloody handprints smearing the boy's soft cheeks where Kakashi cups them to capture his attention through the twisting and screaming, the shock and pain and fight-or-flight. "Her name was Tsukushi. Can you remember that?"_

_Then he turns away, because those blue eyes are impossible to meet. _

"_Tsu..ku..shi," is whispered into the sudden silence behind him. Relief filters through the clearing, softening battle-ready chakra. They will have everything under control by now. Naruto is quiet now. There is nothing more Kakashi can do._

Kakashi woke up and did not want to be alive. He never wanted to be alive in the mornings. He was fit company only for the dead, so to the dead he went. To the same spot he was dragged away from less than four hours ago, but maybe their answers had changed? It wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go. Meetings, missions... they would wait. They could always wait.

He didn't feel at ease until he could see his own one-eyed stare gazing grimly back from polished black stone, the dark outline of his reflection drawing a careful boarder around all the names of the loved he'd lost. There was a space, just above his right hip, where Tsukushi's name would go.

As usual there is nothing he can say, even to the dead, that will accomplish anything. He wants to be done, to go where they've gone, but no matter how recklessly he fights or how much chakra he drains through Obito's eye there are always more mornings.

Obito gave him this, gave his life for Kakashi's life. Rin too—not just of Kakashi, but for Konoha, for her shinobi way. And Sensei. Sensei gave everything. His life, Kushina's life, Naruto's life, though Naruto was left behind. Just like Kakashi.

"You failed me first," Kakashi whispered, and let the lie settle over his shoulders, to hang comfortably with the loss and guilt draped eternally there.

oOo

"Are... are you going to let me in?" wondered Sakura, hopping from foot to foot on the boys' doorstep in time to her internal balance swinging from timidity to irritation and back again. Sasuke seemed to be equally indecisive, leaning into the doorjamb and clinging to the handle as he was, but _why _he couldn't make his mind up she had yet to determine.

Sasuke was cool. He watched everything and understood most things and was really good at anything he tried. She wanted to be like him.

But not mean like him. Sasuke was mean to everyone but Naruto—well, he was mean to Naruto, too, but Naruto never reacted the way you're supposed to when someone is mean to you, so it didn't seem to count that Sasuke was mean to Naruto.

In that way, she wanted to be like Naruto.

"...Are you guys contagious?" she pressed. Things were really wrong here, she knew. The boys had been absent or strange for almost a week but no matter what she did or how she asked she had yet to get any answers.

"No," snapped Sasuke, and then scowled like he wished he'd lied and said yes instead.

"Then I can come in."

He didn't move.

"Naruto's not okay. If he was okay, he would be here opening the door by now. I know he's at home 'cause Iruka-sensei said he would be. I'm going to help him."

That made Sasuke angrier for some reason. "Why should _you_ be able to help him?"

"Naruto likes me."

Sasuke tried to shut the door. Again. Sakura was glad he hadn't noticed the kunai she was holding in place under her shoe. It would really hurt, the way he was trying to crush her foot in the doorjamb, if the metal wasn't bracing it instead. She frowned harder at him. "Plus I'm good at taking care of people. My mama says so."

She immediately felt bad for mentioning her mama, seeing the way it made Sasuke drop his eyes to the floor. Usually she was careful and didn't say things that made him look like he wished he was allowed to cry.

Maybe she should come back another day.

"Fine," he grunted, and moved away. He didn't open the door any wider in invitation, but he wasn't blocking it anymore. "If you make him worse..."

Sakura discreetly scooped up her kunai and followed the hanging threat down the hallway.

oOo

Iruka was spying.

Not on fellow ninja who could be expected to defend themselves and their secrets, either. No, he had fallen low enough to spy on second year academy students, all innocent ignorance and gleefully thrown-open bentos, entirely unshielded to a harsh and exploitive world.

It was the bentos he needed. Bentos gave so many clues to what happened to a child when he was out of sight of school and society. Hints of over-indulgence or neglect, discipline or disregard... it was all there to read between the lids and bottoms of the ordinary lunch box.

Akimichi Chouji was his first target of interest. The boy brought truly spectacular victuals—not just in the astounding quantity of food they contained, but also in the tantalizing aroma drifting on the breeze and the aesthetically pleasing layout that seemed so impractical for artwork that would be devoured in less time than it could be admired it. It was clearly the work of a master chef, someone who took pride and pleasure in the time- and skill-intensive tasks necessary to its creation.

That someone could certainly not be Chouji. Chouji's mother was a far more likely candidate. And not, to Iruka's great chagrin, a viable one. It couldn't be anyone adult. Or adult-sized.

Yamanaka Ino was briefly taken into consideration. Half of her lunch looked to be the work of a child chef, and still very edible. Iruka's theories were proven when she shared with her friends, and his hopes disappointed when she answered their praise with a scornful tirade of how hateful the task of making her own bento was and why, why did she have to be born to such merciless parental slave-drivers?

Oh, little Ino-chan, answered Iruka silently. If you only knew the value of the gift you live. If you knew that you reject more acts of love on any given day than other children receive in an entire childhood. If you knew that your parents are wise, beyond wise to make you learn how to prepare your own food as soon as you could safely do so.

Just like Iruka's parents had done.

Several of the children had store-bought bento of varying quality, which was an acceptable option under many circumstances but certainly wouldn't help him now. Aburame Shino had a well-crafted, perfectly nutritionally-balanced bento that he had probably made himself, but a main course of dry-roasted mealworms seemed a bit... counterproductive.

How Iruka wished he could just solve this problem himself. He could cook. He was famous among the chuunin, and even select jounin, for his culinary prowess. And he knew how to teach children. So when Sakura brought him her concerns about Sasuke and Naruto's eating habits—and apparent complete lack of kitchen know-how, he sighed (but didn't _really_ mind) and added meal prep to the already tightly-packed schedule of his 'volunteer' hours with Sasuke and Naruto: everything from grocery shopping and the names and uses of kitchen tools to food storage. And, of course, his favorite easy-to-prepare busy-day recipes. Naruto's return from the hospital seemed like the perfect opportunity to distract them all from recent horrors with just the thing to cheer the kids up: good company and good cooking.

Except Naruto didn't trust him anymore.

Naruto didn't trust any adults anymore. Even Hokage-sama mentioned that the child was worryingly watchful, wary even around the one person to have played a constantly benign role in his life. Every second Iruka spent in the boys' apartment had the younger of the two winding tighter and tighter with stress and tension, trying to hide overwhelming fear behind wretched parodies of a perfected look-at-me-I'm-perfectly-okay-damn-you grin while keeping a room's length between them at all times—and that was when the kid would even get out of bed. Which he seemed to do only because even if he was barely eating he still had to pee, and because it was easier to pretend that he was just like he always was than to face Sasuke's threatening care for what it was.

(_Why, Mizuki...? _came the thought, and Iruka had to shut it down (again) with every bit of mind-mastery he'd gained in every T&I training he'd ever had.)

And there it was. The Perfect Bento.

Created with tiny-but-skillful hands, nutritionally-balanced, not overly difficult or time-consuming to make, and... super cute. The person who made it must make one like it every day, and possibly several at once, he deduced from the regularities in shape of the rabbit-faced rice balls. And look at those side dishes! Here was someone who not only appreciated vegetables, but might even achieve what he had barely hoped was possible: make Naruto appreciate vegetables.

There were other things he knew about this child, and some of them might become serious problems, but for now it was time to drop the genjutsu. And walk loudly. One had to be circumspect with this one.

"Hi, Hinata-chan," he greeted, once she had registered his presence and had a couple seconds to remember to breathe. "There is someone really special who really, really needs your help. Yes, yours, you are the _only_ one who can do this, so you will need to be really, really brave..."

oOo

She had been talking for a while before Naruto realized whose voice he was hearing: Sakura-chan must be here.

Her voice hurt his ears. Which was kinda funny, because before, he thought that it was a really nice voice, well, it was when she wasn't mad anyway, and he'd always thought Sakura-chan was so pretty.

She sounded really worried. Maybe Sasuke was giving her hard time.

There was this buzzing in his ears, it wouldn't go away, it never went away, and Sakura-sounding-worried was making it worse.

_Blood blood lots and lots and lots of red redredRED_

"You're making it worse—" That sounded like Sasuke, except really hissy, kinda like a snake _sliding snake sliding red, red grass red river red _someone was touching him and he didn't want anyone touching him even though the little ball of cold and lonely that was always somewhere in his belly had grown so big that even his toe-tips were cold and—

"I'm going to get Iruka-sensei!" Sakura again, high, scared, why? Was there something scary here? That moaning was kind of scary—but that was him making that sound, and he wasn't scary—well—when Mizuki-sensei was on top of him he was scary—

"No, _no, _that makes it even worse—fine, go ask for him, he'll tell you—"

Footsteps were going away. Good. He didn't like it when people saw him cry.

"Nnngh. Look, Naruto, I'll be right back—I just gotta make sure—" Sasuke. And now Sasuke's footsteps, going away.

That was good too. He could breathe better now. But it was really, really, really cold now that he was alone.

Sasuke's voice drifted down the hall, angry and urgent. "Don't tell anyone else! They will take him back to the hospital!"

The hospital. He didn't want to go back to the hospital.

"He needs _help._"

"Then Hokage-sama will help him. You got someone better than the Hokage?"

_Jiji..._

"I'm back."

When he opened his eyes, the light hurt them, so he kept them closed.

"Fine. Just... lie there. I'm going to study for the test we _have to pass._"

He stayed there for a while, standing somewhere behind Naruto's back, and Naruto tried to think about the test and maybe getting up to follow him in to the kitchen table and trying to read something because it used to be important but the buzzing in his ears and the aching in his chest just wouldn't stop and what was a test? A test didn't matter, a test couldn't change anything.

After a while there was a noise that didn't sound angry or impatient like Sasuke usually sounded. It was something Naruto didn't recognize, and Sasuke left.

oOo

Sunset painted the colors a boy in a bed should have been, and Kakashi watched.

The day of the memorial service, the day Itachi's little brother and Naruto walked home together from the hospital, Kakashi assigned himself routine security sweeps and watched them settle back into their apartment between runs around the village.

They were doing a little too well. They bickered over what to eat for dinner and ended up with crackers and tomatoes, though Naruto didn't eat the tomatoes. Naruto watched TV instead of going to bed and Sasuke stayed with him, until Naruto yelled at him for watching him instead of the screen and stalked off to his room.

The next day they set out with a pink-haired kid Kakashi vaguely recognized as an academy attendee, and practiced throwing spreads of shuriken. Naruto was pale-faced and irritable—hungry and tired, Kakashi diagnosed—but fought to keep up with Sasuke.

He seemed okay. Kakashi had expected something else, something like Kushina, Kushina who couldn't kill an ant without remorse and felt the force of every human tragedy with an intensity that made everything, _everything_ personal. Every ally and every enemy (and she fought fiercely and bravely and had more than most) was a possible brother or sister and could have been beloved and was mourned accordingly.

Her empathy had dazzled, confused, and irritated Kakashi. How she managed to complete any missions ever when she was such an emotional wreck all the time was a mystery he never solved. Sensei loved her for it though.

Maybe... maybe Naruto was more like him. Like Sensei.

He'd entertained the thought for all of two seconds before Naruto exploded into trauma and chaos. It happened when the Uchiha pulled a kunai from his pouch, waving it in front of the girl, Sakura, in a demonstration of the difference in wrist movements when releasing a kunai from its ring versus releasing a shuriken from its center. There was nothing sudden or threatening about his movements, but the moment Naruto caught sight of the kunai in his peripheral vision, every facet of his control shattered.

Kakashi flexed from relaxed crouch to shunshin-ready in half a heartbeat as Naruto threw himself at the other boy, a wordless bellow ripping itself from the blond boy's throat. He could see the dilated pupils, the subtle shaking of muscles, the too-wide eyes seeing things that weren't really there—all the signs of post-traumatic stress manifesting in a seven-year-old child. He might have to intervene.

The Uchiha caught the initial attack with a short cry of shock, and let Naruto wrestle the kunai from his hand without going on the offensive. The girl fell back, scared and uncertain, as the two fell into a grappling match that seemed almost rehearsed, the moves were so habitual. Except that Naruto couldn't stop screaming and Sasuke couldn't keep his fear and confusion from showing and the other kid had started crying her eyes out and kept running a few steps away, maybe to go for help, before changing her min and running back to beg the boys to stop.

It ended with Naruto curled on his side in a ball, shaking and bawling and not responding. His two small companions clearly hadn't the slightest idea how to react, and Kakashi wasn't much better off. There were shinobi protocals for this... when dealing with fellow shinobi. Second-year academy students probably shouldn't be handled quite the same way.

Perhaps an academy sensei? Considering the that the source of the trauma had been an academy sensei... perhaps not.

Kakashi was late, of course, in coming to any sort of decision. It was Itachi's otouto who hauled Sensei's son to his feet, suddenly silent but still shaking, and dragged him off to the apartment they shared. Kakashi followed them, and found it difficult to drag himself away. There were times he had to leave. He had a full complement of ANBU to command. Dead teammates to honor. Food and hygiene needed to be included in there somewhere. But every time he left, he returned to the same scene playing out on repeat: the kid Uchiha, increasingly desperate, trying to take care of Naruto, who continued to spiral downward.

The sky was red now. Deepening depths of purple and blue shadowed the vast sweep of space surrounding him, but it was the burning band of crimson flaring defiantly on the horizon that drew his eyes. It reflected from the window, obscuring its occupants, but still Kakashi watched. He knew that color.

_Kushina-san, Kushina-san, _he pleaded, sick with helpless emptiness, _Kushina-san, do you see your son?_

oOo

Enough.

Slamming the Phoenix Flower scroll to the table, Sasuke shoved out of his chair and down the hall, ripping the second door open hard enough to wrench it off its track.

"Enough." The harshness of his own voice sounded so much like his father's that he cringed from it, but that didn't lessen the heat in the glare spearing the fetal form on the bed.

"Dobe. Useless. Stupidhead. Usuratonkachi. _Get up._"

Blank blue eyes stared at the wall.

"Don't make me poke you with my kunai." He wasn't carrying one, but it's not like Naruto was looking. Or listening. Or _anything. _Sasuke wasn't completely sure the lump on the bed was even breathing. His heart stuttered with fear; he voiced it as anger.

"Look, _you_ may be used to failing, but there is _no way _I am going to let you ruin everything now. Get up. Get up! _Get up!" _His control was slipping with every word, and angry steps marched him closer and closer to the unmoving boy on the bed until his knees were sinking into the mattress and Naruto's shoulders were in his hands and twisted to the side to force the empty (too pale, too pale!) face to _see _him. Naruto closed his eyes.

"SO SOME ANBU DIED!" roared Sasuke, infuriated. "I WATCHED MY ENTIRE FAMILY DIE! DO YOU HEAR ME, DOBE?! I WATCHED MY ENTIRE FAMILY _DIE!_ _EVERYONE! GONE!_" He dimly realized that he was hitting something, and was distantly relieved that it wasn't Naruto. Plaster and paint crumbled from the wall. Blood welled beneath the calluses covering his knuckles.

Sick to his stomach, Sasuke pulled away, injured hand curled to his chest.

There might be a hole in the wall.

Naruto's eyes finally found him.

"It's not like you saw her face," Sasuke mumbled into his chest, picking bits bloody plaster off his fist. "It's not like you knew her name."

The backhanded slap that came next stung more from shock than physical force.

"You had a family," said Naruto. His voice was hoarse and the words sounded like it burned his tongue to say them. The hand he'd hit Sasuke with clenched into a fist. "All I _ever_ had was ANBU."

"So what," growled Sasuke, but he felt a little better to see Naruto sitting up. "So what. Get up."

Naruto slumped back onto his pillow, stared red-eyed at the ceiling. Bits of paint and plaster clung to his hair. His expression was hollow but there was something different to the set of his jaw. He said something that Sasuke didn't quite hear over the rush of blood in his ears.

"What?"

"Her name. Tsukushi. Her name was Tsukushi."

"...Okay. An ANBU named for a weed. We can remember that." Suddenly listless, Sasuke let himself fall back until his head rested at the end of the mattress and his foot nudged the dobe's shoulder. His gut lurched with hope when he heard Naruto make a sound that was almost like a chuckle. Or maybe a sob, quickly swallowed as Naruto stopped breathing, holding that last bit of oxygen in. The silence stretched until Sasuke felt the other body on the bed tense up and shudder, and a gasp for air that sounded painful.

"Hey. Hey, Naruto."

He was shaking again. Sasuke could feel it through the shoulder his foot rested against. He kicked it.

Gently.

He had to stop this before it got worse again. So he said, "Tsukushi, right?"

Naruto nodded, streaking more tears over the arm he'd thrown over his eyes. "Ca...Captain Inu said it... w-was a good name for her. 'Cause she was...like a weed. You know. Super tough."

He was talking, that was good. Sasuke couldn't think of anything to say in response so he just made a noise to show he was listening and looked at the ceiling and tried not to think all the things that were churning around and around inside him.

"...Sasuke."

"Yeah."

Sheets shifted, and suddenly a scarred and tear-stained face was too close to his. Sasuke frowned at it, but the hand he tried to shove it away with was caught by the wrist and held to, tight.

"Was it your fault." The blue eyes were staring, too wide and too intent.

"Get off. Naruto."

"Was it because of you. That they died. It wasn't, right? You didn't do that, right?"

Sasuke's throat was closing, his vision distorting in panic. "How... how... how could it be my fault—"

"It wasn't." Naruto leaned back, but kept his grip on Sasuke's arm. "It definitely wasn't your fault. That they died." He turned his face toward the other wall, the one without a hole in it, but his eyes kept skittering sideways to watch Sasuke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry they died."

He sounded so young, like the little kid Sasuke was... before. When Itachi was still aniki.

Naruto dropped Sasuke's hand, gripped his own forearms til they bled. "But Tsukushi-san was my fault. It was all because of me."

"How could you know that? Dobe."

Naruto said nothing.

"She was shinobi. She was on a mission. That's how."

Naruto shook his head. Couldn't stop shaking it.

"No... hey, Naruto. Don't. Stop. Don't start this again."

All of Naruto was shaking. Crumbled plaster sifted from his hair, dusting the sheets and Naruto's quivering shoulders.

Sasuke punched him. Tackled him. Wrapped all his limbs around him. "Stop it," he commanded, or begged, he couldn't even care—"stop it, idiot, they'll take you back to the hospital—come on, Naruto, come _on_, you'll be okay, we'll remember that ANBU, okay? Just _stop_—"

Naruto was moaning something. Sasuke stopped smothering him so he could hear him better.

Why. He was asking why.

_To measure my capacity, _hissed Sasuke's Nightmare. He jerked away from Naruto, disentangled all their limbs, and tried to breathe around the aching lump chafing his throat.

"Don't know. You have to be okay. You have to, Naruto. So... so. You'll be okay."

The silence of the room swallowed them, and Sasuke lay still with his skin prickling with sweat and tried to breathe and listened to Naruto breathe and felt when Naruto wasn't trembling anymore.

"You'll be okay," he said again, a little more confidently this time.

He still wasn't sure either of them believed it. Sasuke wasn't okay. Sasuke wasn't ever going to be okay. It had been days since Naruto got out of the hospital and he wasn't approaching anything close to okay.

But when they woke up (when had he drifted off to sleep? He didn't remember going to sleep—) when they woke up, they stumbled into the kitchen, and Naruto ate the eggs scrambled with bits of vegetables that were somehow both burned and half-cooked at the same time that Sasuke made when he was trying to make an omelet.

oOo

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**A/N: **You guys. YOU GUYS. 500+ reviews. I'm kind of in love with you. I can't help but keep writing even though there is no space for writing in my life right now. _Thank you. _Next chapter coming up as soon as I can possibly swing it.

Also... this chapter. I'm worried. Things are much angstier and Squirrel much deader than I wanted her to be. Just... let me know what your reaction was, please?


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